MAGOOGIN 


ohn  J.  Jennings 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


44  Widow  Magoogin," 

By  JOHN  J.  JENNINGS. 
4th  Edition. 

"There  is  not  a  dull  line  in  'Widow  Magoogin'  nor  a 
page  that  does  not  hold  a  laugh." — Philadelphia  Times. 

"A  comparison  with  Mr.  Dooley  is  inevitable.  The 
dialect  is  even  richer  and  is  handled  fully  as  skillfully." 

— Boston  Times. 

"  '  Widow  Magoogin '  has  an  opinion  which  she  delight 
fully  expresses  upon  every  subject  under  the  sun." 

— St.  Louis  Globe-Democrat. 

"With  gentle  satire  Mr.  Jennings  castigates  the  weak 
nesses  in  our  national  character  or  emphasizes  our  pecu 
liarities  as  a  people." — Baltimore  Sunday  Herald. 

"  One  of  the  best  books  put  on  the  market  in  many  a 
day."— St.  Louis  Star. 

"Shrewd,  sound,  sensible,  positive  and  always  good 
natured,  the  '  Widow  Magoogin '  is  at  once  a  character  in 
literature  and  a  feature  in  the  history  of  the  times." 

—N.  Y.  World. 

"And  now  comes  the  'Widow  Magoogin.'  She  looks 
for  all  the  world  like  a  Mr.  Dooley  in  petticoats.  Unlike 
Dinkelspiel  she  is  Irish,  and  possesses  a  fund  of  genuine 
Irish  humor."— N.  Y.  Herald. 

"A  companion  to  the  famous  Mr.  Dooley." 

— N.  Y.  Sunday  Journal. 

"'Widow  Magoogin'  is  one  of  the  characters  of  the 
age." — Chicago  Tribune. 

"Mr.  Doo ley's  equal." — Denver  Republican. 

Cloth  Bound. 

Sold  everywhere — and  sent  by  mail,  postage  free, 
on  receipt  of  price,  $1.25,  by 

G.  W.  DILLINGHAM  CCX,  Publishers,  New  York. 


WIDOW 

MAGOOGIN 


By  JOHN  J.  JENNINGS 
["J.  J-  ]•"] 


NEW   YORK: 
G.    W.  Dillingham   Co.,  Publishers  > 

MDCCCC. 


COPYRIGHT,  1900,  BY 

G.  W.  DILLINGHAM  COMPANY. 

[All  rights  reserved.] 


Widow  Magoogin. 


35ft 


TO 
CHARLES  FROHMAN 

A     SUCCESSFUL     AMERICAN 

WHO   HAS  WON 
EVERY  STEP  OF  HIS  OWN  WAY 

AND    WHOSE    FAME 

AS  A   FRIEND   OF  DRAMATIC   LITERATURE 
AND     A      PRODUCER 

OF  IMPORTANT  PLAYS 

IS   ESTABLISHED 
IN  BOTH    HEMISPHERES 


TO    THE    READER. 


•'Widow  Magoogin"  began  to  free  her  mind  on  topics  of 
the  day  to  her  neighbor,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  as  far  back  as 
1882.  She  continued  her  conversations,  first  in  the  St. 
Louis  Critic,  and  later  in  the  New  York  Sunday  Mercury, 
both  weekly  publications,  until  1894,  when  the  character 
of  the  latter  periodical  changed,  and  "Widow  Magoogin" 
returned  to  private  life. 

She  was  not  the  first  of  her  family  to  acquire  popularity 
through  the  "'gift  of  the  gab/'  for  her  cousin,  Mike  Ma 
googin,  whom  I  also  created,  and  who  attained  to  fame  as 
the  talking  Irish  policeman  of  the  St.  Louis  Post-Dispatch, 
had  preceded  her  by  several  months  in  public  favor.  Officer 
Magoogin  took  great  interest  in  Signor  Fopiano,  who  kept 
a  peanut  stand  on  his  post,  and  he  whiled  away  many  a 
pleasant  quarter  of  an  hour  at  the  Italian  Merchant's 
corner,  eating  his  "goobers"  and  telling  him  what  he 
thought  of  the  way  the  world  was  wagging  and  the  ship  of 
state  was  sailing. 

"Widow  Magoogin"  took  up  the  discussion  of  these  and 
other  subjects,  where  Officer  Magoogin  had  left  off,  and 
the  present  volume  contains  a  few  of  the  remarks  which 
were  made  by  her  to  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  in  her  capacity 
of  commentator  upon,  and  interpreter  of,  passing  events. 

This  peep  into  the  Magoogin  archives  will  enable  you  to 

[7] 


8  TO   THE   READER. 

see  that  "Widow  Magoogin"  is  not  a  base  imitation,  but 
an  original  creation. 

Some  conversations — not  more  than  half  a  dozen — on 
topics  of  recent  interest  have  been  added.  Otherwise  the 
collection  consists  of  reprints  of  the  Irish  Widow's  previous 
utterances.  JOHN  J.  JENNINGS. 

New  York  City,  February  12,  1900. 


CONTENTS. 


HERSELF  AND  OTHERS. 

Admiral  Dewey    .         .         .        .  -17 

The  Yacht  Races          .         .         .  .21 

A  Ride  on  an  Automobile     .        .  .24 

The  Qiieen  of  Ireland           .        .  .29 

The  Comet 33 

Something  about  Strikes      .         .  -35 

Barring  Children  Out  of  Flats      .  .37 

The  Great  American  Hog     .         .  -39 

Keeping  Cool  in  Hot  Weather     .  .     40 

How  She'd  Run  a  Cable  Car        .  .     43 

The  Fin-de-Siecle  Irish  Wake      .  .     45 

An  Irishman  Discovered  America  .     48 

Gum  Chewing  and  Slang      .         .  .50 

The  New  Songs 51 

ARETHUSA  AND  HER  BEAU. 

Her  Daughter's  Pride           .         .  -57 

Jonquils  for  the  Table          .         .  -59 

Arethusa  is  a  Poet        .         .         .  .62 

Toozy  Wants  to  be  Cremated       .  '64 

Arethusa  Fires  Her  Beau    .        .  .66 

t9l 


IO  CONTENTS. 

PACK 

A  SON-IN-LAW  IN  THE  HOUSE. 

An  Ante-Nuptial  Tragedy    .         .  .73 

Comments  Before  the  Wedding  .  -75 

Arethusa  Marries  Dutch  Henry    .  .77 

A  Family  Misunderstanding        .  .82 

There  May  be  a  Divorce      .         .  .84 

Soup  For  the  Son-in-Law   .         .  .86 

Supporting  a  Son-in-Law    .         .  .88 

Arethusa's  Baby  .        ...      .  -90 

Tommy's  Joke  on  Toozy's  Baby  .     92 

Her  Daughter's  Chicago  Divorce  .     93 

Arethusa's  Husband  Fired  .         .  .     97 

The  Husband  was  in  the  Way     .  .100 

Barnum's  Offer  for  the  Family    .  .102 


IN  PROSPERITY. 

She  Moves  in  Society  .        ...  .  107 

Raffle  For  a  Goat  at  the  Vanderbilts  .  no 

A  Look  at  Mrs.  McGlaggerty's  Goat  .  115 

After  the  French  Ball  .        .         .  .  1 1 7 

The  New  Walk     .        .        .        .  .119 

The  French  Professor         "&•.       .  .  ico 

It  Was  All  a  Dream  .  122 


POLITICS. 

The  Lexow  Committee        .  .  .127 

Closing  the  Saloons  on  Sunday  .  .129 

A  Halo  for  Dr.  Parkhurst    .  .  .132 

She  Gets  Her  Sunday  Beer  .  .   134 

Looking  For  a  Politician's  Job  .  .136 

Tommy  To  Be  a  Policeman  .  .138 


CONTENTS.  1 1 

SPORTS  AND  FADS. 

A  Game  of  Golf  .  .  .  .  .  143 
She  "  Came  Over  "  on  a  Yacht  .  -149 
The  Irish  in  the  Prize  Ring  .  .152 
The  Brooklyn  Handicap  .  .  .154 
Her  Boy  Cut  Out  for  a  Ball-player  .  155 

The  Bicycle 158 

The  "  Giants  "  Want  Her  for  a  Mascot  160 
Her  Daughter's  Football  Player.  .  162 
On  Roller  Skates  .  .  .  .164 
Horseback  Riding  .  .  .  -167 
Arethusa  an  Amateur  Photographer  .  169 
Physical  Culture 171 

PURELY  PERSONAL. 

She  Gets  Vaccinated    . 
Superfluous  Flesh 
An  Experience  in  Table  Etiquette 
She  Has  a  Dream       .  .        .. 
The  Irishness  of  Her  Name 


THE  SOCIAL  WHIRL. 

The  Horse  Show         ,.,    ,  ...  -;   '  .  .   189 

Her  Daughter  at  Dancing  School  .   193 

Preparing  for  a  Function      .         .  .195 

A  Dog  Reception          .         .         .  .197 

She  Gives  a  Cobweb  Party  .         .  .200 

Conversation  Matinees          .         .  .  203 

Her  Daughter's  Kitchen  Recital  .  204 

A  Birthday  Party          .         .         .  .207 

Arethusa's  Kaffee'  Klatsch.           .  .   209 
A  Donkey  Party  at  Birdie  Maloney's .  212 


12  CONTENTS. 

PAGB 

RECREATION. 

A  Good  Time  at  Coney  Island  .  .217 

At  the  Arion  Ball — by  Mistake  .  .219 

On  An  Excursion  Boat          .  .  .222 

A  "  Bat"  at  Rockaway  Beach  .  .225 

At  the  Patriarch's  Ball          .  .  ,227 

In  the  Surf  at  Asbury  Park  .  .229 

In  the  Country     .„      :    .         .  .  .   231 

Sunday  in  Central  Park     .,»  .  .233 

The  Charity  Ball  .         .        .  .  .   235 

The  Animals  in  the  Zoo  .   .  .  -237 

At  the  Liederkranz  Ball       .  .  .239 


DAYS  WE  CELEBRATE. 

St.  Patrick's  Day        ......  .  .  245 

She  Receives  a  Valentine    .  .  .249 

April  Fool    .         .        .        .  .  .  251 

A  Bock  Beer  Day  Experience  .  .254 

Puss  Sunday         .         .       .«  .  .256 

Christmas  Preparations      ...  .  -259 

Christmas  Presents      .         .  .  .262 

She  Gives  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  a  Present  264 

No  More  New  Year's  Callers  .  .266 

New  Years  and  Egg- Nog     .  .  .268 


THE  FASHIONS. 

No  Health  Pants  for  Her     .  .  -     .273 

She  Trims  the  Goat's  Whiskers  .  .275 

The  New  Bonnets  and  the  Old  .  .276 

Green  is  a  Fashionable  Color  .  .278 

The  $500  Garters  '  .-  •  281 

Hand-painted  Shirts    .       ;.  •  .  .  283 


CONTENTS.  13 

PAGE 

THE   FASHIONS— Continu 

Arethusa's  High  Hat    .         .  .  .286 

Arethusa's  Decollete  Dress  .  »  .288 

Her  Court  Costume      .         .  .  .  289 

New  Style  for  Divorce  Trials  .  .291 

The  Aigrette  Bonnet    .         .  V  .  294 


HER  OWN  SEX. 

What  Constitutes  a  Belle      .        .  .  299 

Sweet  Girl  Graduates  .         .        .  .301 

Women  Who  Want  Rights  .         .  .  304 

The  Girls  and  Breaches  of  Promise  .  306 

The  Summer  Girl        .         .         .  .308 

The  Chaperone 310 

She  is  for  Equal  Rights       .         .  .312 

Some  Queer  Women    .         .        .  .314 

Should  Women  Use  Tobacco      .  .316 

A  Woman  With  300  Dresses       .  .318 


MATRIMONY. 

Marriage  Is  Not  a  Failure   .  ,  -323 

Turning  Out  a  Baby     .        .  .  .325 

Old  Folks  Marrying      .         .  .  .   327 

New  York's  Bachelor  Mayor  .  .  329 

A  Man's  Right  to  Beat  His  Wife  .  331 

No  Titled  Husband  for  Her  .  .333 


MUSIC  AND  DRAMA. 

She  Goes  to  Grand  Opera    .  .  .  339 

At  The  Actors'  Fund  Fair  .  .  .342 

She  Won't  go  On  The  Stage  .  .  344 


14  CONTENTS. 

MUSIC  AND    DRAMA—  Continued. 

Mrs.  Potter  as  Cleopatra  .  .  .346 
She  Was  Asked  to  be  a  Living  Picture  347 
She  Weighs  Up  Actors  ..  .  .  349 
She  Goes  to  a  Concert  .  .  .  35 1 
The  Burlesque  Girl's  Legs  .  .  354 

She  Won't  Play  Little  Eva  .  .356 
At  The  German  Opera  .  .  .359 
More  About  Grand  Opera  .  .  .360 
She  Rides  a  Giraffe  in  the  Barnum 

Parade        .....  362 


HERSELF  AND  OTHERS. 


WIDOW  MAGOOGIN 


'ADMIRAL  DEWEY. 

"Did  ye  get  air  a  squint  at  Jewey — George  Jewey — Mrs. 
McGlaggerty  ?"  asked  the  Widow,  very  solicitously. 

"No,  Oi  mist  him,  Mrs.  Magoogin.  My  Jerry  was  off 
on  a  spree  celebratin'  the  return  av  the  great  hayro,  as 
he  calls  him,  an'  Oi  had  to  shtay  in  th'  house  fur  the  polaice 
was  loible  to  bring  him  home  oreyide  anny  minnit  in  a 
push  cart,  Mrs.  Magoogin/' 

"Yurra  thin  more  pow'r  to  him  fur  gettin'  dhrunk,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow,  in  a  tone  of  rejoicing,  "fur 
he  kudn't  have  chosen  a  betther  toime  fur  it  nor  done 
id  in  anner  av  a  betther  man,  me  friend.  Begorry,  Oi 
h'isted  a  few  pints  av  beer  meself  in  anner  av  th'  occasion, 
but  it  didn't  purvint  me  goin'  up  to  Mad'son  Square  abow 
an'  gettin'  a  place  almost  nuxt  to  him  in  th'  grand  stand. 
Oh,  but  he  is  th'  hayro — oy,  th'  hayro  av  hayroes,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty — an'  id's  no  wondher  th'  poits  wroite  about 
him  an'  the  noospapers  air  full  av  his  pecturs — gud,  bad 
an'  indiffrunt  though  they  be's — me  friend.  An'  be,  th' 
same  token,  do  ye  know,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  thet  aff  Oi  war 
Adm'ral  Jewey  an'  thim  noospaper  artists  med  such  pec- 
thurs  av  me  as  they're  maldn'  av  him — daipictin'  him  wan 
toirne  as  a  Dago  wid  th'  yally  faver  an'  another  toime  as 


1 8  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

th'  former  superinthinder  av  Polaice,  Byrnes — an'  agin 
as  Billy  McGlory,  an'  as — God  knows  who  else,  an'  what 
else — do  ye  know  fwhat  Oi'd  do  wid  thim,  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty?  May  th'  Divil  fly  away  wid  me  an'  nivver  bring 
me  back,  me  frind,  aff  Oi  wudn't  ram  th'  whole  lot  av  thim 
into  a  six-inch — no  Oi  main  a  six-fut — gun,  an'  blow  thim 
off  to  a  bit  av  Manila  Bay  ixcoitemint.  Upon  me  wurrud, 
ma'am,  that's  jusht  fwhat  Oi'd  do  to  thim,  an'  it  id  not  be 
long  Oi'd  be  in  makin'  up  me  moind  to  id,  ayther,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty ! 

"But  comin'  back  to  Jewey  himsilf,  be  Heavens,  but  he's 
th'  jewel!  Oi  don't  moind  him  sailin'  over  the  torpadoeg 
an'  foirecrackers'  an  th'  way  to  Manila,  an'  killin'  th' 
danged  owld  Spaniards,  as  aff  they  war  so  manny  Jursey 
mishkitties,  an'  facin'  th'  shot  an'  shell  as  aisy  an'  uncon- 
sarned-loike  as  'aff  they  war  rose  laives  or  snowballs, 
though  God  furgive  me  aff  Oi  war  his  woife  an'  had  a 
howlt  av  his  coat-tails  fwhin  he  was  on  th'  bridge  av  th' 
Olympia  durin'  the'  battle,  Oi'd  moighty  soon  pull  him 
down  bchoind  th'  smoke-stack,  or  make  him  go  to  his 
cabin  fwhere  no  haarm  ud  come  to  him.  It's  not  th' 
foightin'  part  av  his  carracthur  that  sets  me  heart  thumpin' 
wid  j'y  fwhin  Oi  hear  mintion  av  his  name,  though  he's 
uvry  bit  as  gud  in  that  loine  as  Terry  McGovern  or  Tom 
Sharkey  or  John  L.  Soolivan,  that  was  th'  greatest  av  thim 
all — it's  not  th'  sluggin'  he  gev  thim  Dagoes  in  th'  Philli- 
peens — nor  annythin'  av  that  soort,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty ; 
but  it's  th'  f  oine  naachure  av  th'  man  an'  th'  hoigh  an'  noble 
oidayas  he  howlds  av  th'  faymale  sex  that  gives  me  th' 
splindid  pinnigin  that  Oi  has  av  him.  It's  a  pity, 
me  frind,  that  he  had  to  stay  a  widdyer  so  long.  It  must 
have  been  very  lonesome  fur  him  out  there  in  th'  middle  av 
th'  say  to  have  nobody  to  mind  his  socks  or  put  a  patch 
in  th'  sait  av  his  pants  fwhin  they  needid  it,  Mrs.  Me- 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  19 

Glaggerty,  ur  to  lay  out  his  noightshirt  an'  have  it  noice 
an'  warrum  fur  him  fwhin  th'  noights  was  cowld.  It 
must  have  been  terrubly  rough  on  him,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
an'  for  my  paart  Oi  think  it  a  blishin'  shame,  considherin' 
how  lucky  so  manny  mane  snaiks  an'  scallywags  av  min 
are  in  this  wurruld  who  have  woives  to  slave  an'  toil  an' 
slobber  over  thim  fram  wan  year's  ind  to  th'  other,  me 
friend. 

"But  maark  my  word,  Mrs.  Magoogin,  Adm'ril  Jewey  '11 
not  be  long  'idout  a  soide  paartner,  as  soon  as  it's  med 
known  thet  he  wants  wan.  He's  too  foine  a  gintleman  fur 
that,  alanna.  All  he  has  to  do  is  to  give  th'  wind  of  th' 
word,  an'  more  wimmin  than  even  auld  Brigham  Young 
himsilf  ivver  dhraimed  av  '11  be  dancin'  around  an'  settin' 
their  caps  fur  him.  He's  med  himsilf  solid  wid  our  sex, 
Mrs.  MeGlaggerty,  an'  there  isn't  a  faymale  woman  frum 
Queen  Victory  down — includin'  yer  humble  sarvint,  mesilf, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty — thet  wouldn't  be  glad  an'  proud  to 
get  him.  An'  ye  needn't  laugh  so  immodesty  fwhin  Oi 
mintion  mesilf  aither,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  fur  it  wudn't  be 
th'  first  husband  Oi  had  that  was  connicted  wid  th'  say. 
Sure  an'  my  ould  man,  Dinny — the  Lord  be  marciful  to 
his  sowl — wurrked  fur  th'  Cunard  Loine  as  a  longshoreman 
fur  over  tin  years,  an'  there  wasn't  a  man  along  th'  docks 
kud  rowl  a  barrel  ur  carry  a  sack  anny  naiter  ur  aisier 
than  him,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  He  kud  sing  "A  Home  on  th' 
Ocean  Blyue"  loike  a  cockatoo,  me  frind,  an'  fwhin  he 
doied  th'  Longshoremin's  Union  gev  him  as  foine  a  funeral 
as  ivver  left  th'  Fourth  Waard.  So  ye  see  Oi'm  not  such 
a  stranger  to  th'  sa3T,  afther  all,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an' 
Adm'ril  Jewey  ud  not  be  gettin'  an  intoirely  anexpay- 
rienced  sayman's  woife  fwhin  he'd  be  afther  takin'  me. 
An'  be  th'  same  token  he  moight  luk  further  an'  fare  worse, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 


20  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

It  was  several  weeks  after  that  the  neighbors  resumed 
their  conversation  about  Admiral  Dewey. 

"Fwhat  d'ye  think,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Adm'ril  Jewey's 
gone  aff  an'  got  married,"  said  the  Widow. 

"Ye  don't  tell  me,"  the  neighbor  replied. 

"Yis,  maam,"  said  the  Widow.  "He  was  married  this 
blessed  mawrnin'  in  th'  city  av  Washington,  D.  Q." 

"Thin  may  th'  Lord  sind  him  j'y  an'  manny  happy 
days,"  the  neighbor  exclaimed,  fervently. 

"Ahmin !"  said  the  Widow,  "an'  Heaven's  blessin'  on  th' 
broide,  fur  they  sez  she's  a  foine  woman  intoirely,  an'  that 
she  an'  th'  Adm'ril  have  known  aich  other  ivver  since  they 
war  knee-hoigh  to  grasshoppers,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  She 
was  a  widdy,  too,  loike  mysilf,  me  frind.  Ah,  ha !  but  Jewey 
knew  fwhere  to  luk  fwhin  he  was  in  surch  av  a  woife. 
They  may  talk  all  they  loike  about  the  young  gerruls  av 
th'  day,  wud  their  folderols  an'  their  doidoes,  an'  their 
consaited  way  av  thinkin'  that  they're  the  only  thing  on 
airth  worth  lukin'  at,  but  Adm'ril  Jewey  knew  that  they 
warn't  wan,  two,  six  wid  the  widdies  fwhin  it  come  to 
makin'  gud  woives.  Th'  widdies  have  th'  expayrience,  an' 
they  know  uxactly  fwhat  to  do  to  make  the  min  happy  an' 
continted,  fwhereas  th'  scrawneens  av  gerruls  that's  goin' 
nowadays  don't  know  enough  to  woipe  their  own  noses, 
let  alone  takin'  care  av  a  home  or  a  husband,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty.  Oi'm  glad  fur  th'  Adm'ril's  own  sake  that  he 
had  the  sinse  to  pick  out  a  widdy  to  be  Mrs.  Jewey.  She'll 
fill  his  loife  wid  j'y,  and  maark  my  wurrud,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,  she'll  taich  him  a  thing  or  two  about  dissiplin' 
that  he  nuver  dhraimed  av.  She'll  make  him  walk  a  chalk 
loine,  Oi'll  howld  ye,  an'  in  th'  cowld  winther  mawrnin's 
afther  th'  honeymoon  is  pasht  ye'll  hear  her  melliflooyus 
v'ice  frum  undher  th'  bed  clothes  as  she  sez,  be  way  av  com 
mand  to  th'  Adm'ril,  as  he  sed  to  Captain  Gridley,  *Ye 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  21 

kin  get  up  an*  make  th'  foire,  George,  fwhin  ivver  ye're 
ready!'  An'  be  th'  hokies,  he'll  have  to  do  it,  too,  or  go 
widout  his  brukf ast,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 


THE  YACHT  EACES. 

"Yurra,  but  it's  the  great  goin's-on  they  do  be  havin' 
about  thim  two  yatches,  the  Shamrock  and  Columbia,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow  Magoogin  to  her  neighbor. 

"There's  as  much  talk  an'  excoitemint  over  it  as  there 
was  over  the  war  wid  Cuby,  Mrs.  Magoogin,"  responded  the 
neighbor. 

"An'  more,  too,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty ;  oy,  a  great  dale  more, 
me  frind,"  said  the  Widow,  "an'  fwhy  shudn't  there  be, 
fur  th'  Shamrock  kem  frum  Oireland  fwhere  all  gud  things 
come  from,  God  bless  her!  an'  nawthin'  but  naygurs  an' 
yally  fayver  an'  all  soorts  av  throuble  come  from  Cuby.  So 
ye  see,  it's  only  roight  an'  daycint,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that 
there  shud  be  a  bigger  hullabaloo  about  the  Shamrock  than 
there  was  over  the  durty,  lazy  Cubyans,  who,  since  the  war 
inded,  have  gone  back  to  smokin'  cigaroots  an'  playin' 
guitars  an'  wearin'  red  velvet  britches  loike  play  acthors 
in  comic  opery,  jusht  as  they  did  afore  Teddy  Roosevelt  an' 
his  Rough  Roiders  set  thim  free. 

"But  to  come  back  to  the  yatches,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
Oi  was  dead  crazy  to  have  th'  Shamrock  bate  th'  Columbia 
an'  win  th'  cup  an'  saucer  that  they  war  racin'  for,  until  Oi 
wint  down  the  bay  on  th'  steamer  Grand  Republic  to  see  th' 
two  boats  do  their  stunts,  as  my  b'y  Tommy  sez.  Thin  Oi 
changed  me  moind,  me  frind,  an'  begorry  it'll  stay  changed 
as  long  as  me  name  is  Mrs.  Birdie  Magoogin,  Eshquoire, 
an'  Oi'm  afraid  that'll  be  fur  some  toime  to  come,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty. 


22  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

"Musha  bad  luck  to  the  notion  that  tuk  me  to  see  th' 
race  anyways.  Sure  an'  Oi  thought  it  was  something  loike 
a  horse  race  ur  a  fut  race  that  a  person  kud  sit  down  an' 
know  something  about  fwhoile  it  was  goin'  on,  even  if  they 
didn't  exactly  inj'y  it.  But  glory  be  to  God  on  high !  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  it  was  timptin'  Death  an'  the  Divil  to  be 
out  in  such  a  say  rowlin'  an'  tossin'  about  wid  yer  break 
fast  up  in  yer  throat  uv'ry  suckond,  an'  uv'rybody  on  boord 
as  sick  an'  toired  av  loife  as  a  yally  dog  in  flay-toime.  The 
boats  war  all  bumpin'  into  wan  another  an'  blowin' 
fwhistles,  an'  the  payple  on  boord  war  runnin'  around  loike 
a  lot  av  lunyaticos.  May  the  breath  nuver  laive  me  body, 
me  frind,  aff  Oi  did't  think  uv'ry  minnit  ud  be  me  nuxt, 
an'  Oi  had  no  more  oidaya  that  Oi'd  be  here  to-day  talkin' 
an'  laughin'  wid  you,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  than  Oi  have  now 
av  handin'  ye  over  tin  dollars  an'  tellin'  ye  to  go  out  an' 
buy  a  new  dhress  wid  it.  Divil  such  a  rilin'  up  Oi  nuver 
got  since  th'  mawrnin'  afther  Mrs.  Malowny's  wake,  fwhin 
th'  poort  woine  Oi  dhrank  th'  noight  afore  set  me  head 
spinnin'  'round  loike  a  top,  an'  Oi  was  that  sick  at  stummick 
Oi  thought  Oi'd  nivver  be  able  to  ate  a  boite  av  corned 
beef  an'  cabbidge  agin  th'  longest  day  Oi  lived,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty.  Th'  say  ud  come  up  agin  me  as  aff  it  war  goin' 
to  swally  me,  an'  thin  jisht  fwhin  Oi  got  ready  to  throw 
mesilf  into  its  wathery  jaws  it  ud  dhrap  down  a  hundhert 
feet  or  so,  an'  Oi'd  get  that  dizzy  thet  Oi  didn't  know 
fwhether  me  bang  was  andher  me  oxther  or  on  th'  top  av 
me  head,  me  frind.  Ah,  th'  moachin  av  the  oachin,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty !  It  med  me  very  sick,  me  frind. 

"An'  sorra  th'  ha'porth  Oi  saw  av  the  yatches  at  all,  at 
all .  A  fat  man  wid  a  quart  bottle  av  haard  stuff  kep  his  oye 
an  me  all  day,  givin'  me  th'  oofty-gooft  an'  thryin'  his  best 
to  make  a  smash  an  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty;  an'  faix,  Oi 
kept  me  oye  an  his  bottle,  an'  thankful  Oi  was,  too,  fwhin 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  23 

he  handed  it  to  me  an'  ax'd  me  to  have  a  snifter  out  av  id. 
Ow  wow!  but  it  was  the  grand  stuff,  intoirely,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty.  It  warmed  me  up  loike  a  red-hot  cannon  stove. 
Afther  a  f while  fwhin  we  had  been  colloguin'  some  toime 
wid  th'  bottle,  Oi  axed  me  fat  frind  fwhere  the  yatches  war. 
'There  they  are,'  sez  he,  p'intin'  to  a  pair  av  fwhoite  specks 
an  th'  oachin.  'An'  f  what  are  they  doin'  ?'  sez  Oi.  'They're 
sploicin'  th'  main  jib  an'  dhrivin'  tacks  into  th  'wind,'  sez 
he.  'Begorry,  it's  tin-pinny  nails  ur  railroad  spoikes  they 
shud  be  dhrivin'  into  it/  sez  Oi,  'fur  it's  moighty  loively 
wind/  sez  Oi.  'Now  they're  h'istin'  th'  spinnicher  on  th' 
Shamrock/  sez  he,  not  payin'  anny  attintion  to  fwhat  Oi 
sed  about  the  wind.  'Fwhafs  that?'  sez  Oi.  'They're 
h'istin'  th'  spinnicher  an  th'  Shamrock/  sez  he.  'Ar'  they 
hangin'  them  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Hangin'  who  ?'  sez  he.  'Th'  spin- 
nichers — an'  may  the  Divil  have  his  aarms  full  resaivin' 
thim  in  th'  other  wurruld,  aff  they  are/  sez  Oi.  'Fwhat 
do  ye  main  ?'  sez  he.  'Oi  main  thet  aff  they've  caught  anny 
av  thim  scallywag  spinnichers  an  boord  th'  Shamrock 
thryin'  to  blow  it  up,  as  they  did  th'  Maine/  sez  Oi,  'they 
shud  give  thim  short  shrift  an'  a  strong  rope,  an'  Oi  hope 
to  th'  Almoighty  that  none  av  thim  have  got  away/  sez  Oi. 
The  fat  man  laughed  till  Oi  thought  he'd  bust  his  soides, 
an'  thin  he  explained  that  it  wasn't  thim  koind  av  Spin 
nichers  at  all,  but  yatch  boat  spinnichers,  f  which  are  a  soort 
av  big  sail,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Well,  th'  conversation  wid 
th'  fat  man  an'  th'  swigs  from  his  quart  bottle  was  all  th' 
yatch  race  Oi  uver  saw,  my  frind,  an*  Oi  was  there  th' 
whole  day  long.  Towards  noight  th'  fat  man  sed  th'  Co 
lumbia  had  won  be  tin  or  twinty  moiles,  an'  thin  there  was 
cheerin'  an'  clappin'  av  hands  an'  wavin'  av  hankerchers, 
an'  we  turnt  around  an'  kem  home.  An*  that's  all  there 
was  to  it,  Mrs.  McGrlaggerty,  except  that  th'  fat  man  had 
to  carry  me  to  th'  caars  at  th'  Batthery. 


24  WIDOW  MAGOOGIN. 

"But  bad  sesh  to  me,  me  f rind,  but  Oi  was  taken  back  in- 
toirely  fwhin  Oi  lurned  that  there  wasn't  an  Oirishman 
aboord  th'  Shamrock,  but  that  th'  crew  was  all  Swaids  an' 
Skandiloovians.  Sorra  th'  step  Oi'd  have  gone  down  the 
oachin  fur  their  danged  owld  races  aff  it  hadn't  bin  that  Oi 
thought  the  crew  was  all  Oirishmin  an'  thet  it  ud  be  a 
grand  day  fur  ould  Oireland  to  see  their  boat  win.  But 
they  was  anything  else  but  Oirish,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an' 
fur  that  raison  they  lost  th'  race,  an'  bad  scran  to  thim ! 
Sir  Thomas  Lipton  shud  have  known  betther  than  to  sail 
an  Oirish  boat  andher  false  colors.  He  kudn't  have  betther 
luck  andher  th'  sercumstances.  Well,  he'll  know  betther 
th'  next  toime,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  From  th'  momint  Oi 
hurd  about  th'  Shamrock's  crew  Oi  rooted  as  haard  as  Oi 
kud  fur  th'  Columbia  an'  Oi  tuk  an  extra  long  pull  at  th' 
fat  man's  bottle  fwhin  she  won,  me  frind.  But  Oi'm  not 
shtuck  on  yatch  racin',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty ;  th'  Cooney  Oi- 
land  staimboats  is  all  the  yatches  that'll  uver  interest  ma 
agin  th'  longest  day  Oi  live,  me  frind." 


A  EIDE  ON  AN  AUTOMOBILE. 

"Fwhat  do  ye  think  av  thim  hot-to-molly-billies,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty?"  the  Widow  inquired,  with  the  air  of  a 
woman  who  had  said  something  unusually  fine. 

"Thim  fwhat?"  asked  the  neighbor,  almost  stunned  by 
the  big  word. 

"Hot-to-molly-billies,"  said  the  Widow  again,  somewhat 
grandiloquently. 

"Mommer  means  automobiles,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  her 
daughter  Arethusa  explained;  "horseless  carriages — you 
know." 

"That's  fwhat  Oi  sed— hot-to-molly-billies — didn't  Oi, 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  25 

Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?  But  bein'  as  it's  a  Frinch  wurrud,  Oi 
suppose  ye  didn't  andherstand  it." 

"FaixV  Oi  didn't  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"An'  small  blame  to  you  for  not,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty," 
the  Widow  replied,  "for  it  tuk  me  a  long  toime  to  andher 
stand  it  mesilf  fwhin  Oi  first  hurd  it.  But  now  that  ye 
know  fwhat  it  is,  fwhat  do  ye  think  av  id,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty  ?" 

"Oi  don't  think  av  id  at  all,  Mrs.  Magoogin.  The  cable 
caars  are  gud  enough  fur  me." 

"An'  fur  me,  too,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow. 
"Oi  haven't  rode  in  a  cab  since  th'  noight  Oi  wint  to  th' 
Frinch  ball  an'  two  polaicemin  brung  me  home  in  wan  av 
thim  opin-faced  caarts  that  they  calls  a  handsome  cab. 
Though  fwhat  th'  divil  there  is  handsome  about  thim,  Oi'll 
nuvver  tell  ye,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oh,  but  that  was  a 
mimmorable  noight,  me  frind.  Oi  didn't  forget  id  fur 
foor  days  an'  six  noights  aftherwards.  Oi  dhrank  a  bit  too 
mooch  champagny  wather  an'  it  toied  so  manny  sailor 
knots  in  me  brain  th.  .t  Oi  thought  Oi'd  nuvver  be  able  to 
think  straight  or  to  see  straight  agin,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
Bad  luck  to  id,  but  that  champagny  wather  kem  purty  near 
bein'  th'  death  av  me,  an'  aff  Oi'  live  to  be  as  owld  as 
Massachoosyettes — an'  the  Boible  tells  iz  he  lived  to  be 
noine  hundhert  an'  noinety-noine  years  owld — Oi'll  nuvver 
let  a  dhrap  av  th'  insinnywatin'  shtuff  pass  me  lips  agin, 
me  frind.  ISTo,  ma'am,  beer's  good  enough  fur  Mrs.  Birdie 
Magoogin,  Eshquoire,  fur  th'  resht  av  her  naacheril  loife, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  there's  nawthin'll  uver  timpt  her — 
Frinch  ball  or  Ditch  ball  or  Walledoff-Sashtoria  receptions 
or  nawthin'  else — to  wet  her  fwhistle  wid  any  other  bev'- 
ridge  but  th'  foamin'  lager.  An'  be  that  some  token  Oi'd 
loike  to  have  a  can  av  id  now,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"But  to  come  back  to  th'  hot-to-molly-billies,  me  frind. 


26  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

Oi  was  walkin'  on  Broadway  th'  other  day  fwhin,  who  shud 
come  up  to  me  but  Dinnis  Hanrahan — you  know  owld  Mrs. 
Hanrahan's  son  that  shtuddied  to  bo  a  loiar  but  gev  it  up 
to  go  dhroivin'  a  hack  fur  Jack  Hayes — well,  who  shud 
come  up  to  me  shmoilin'-loike  an'  howldin'  out  his  hand 
but  Dinnis.  'How  ar'  ye,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?'  sez  he.  'Sure 
an'  how  ar'  ye,  Dinnis  ?'  sez  Oi,  'an'  how  is  yer  mother,  an' 
fwhat  ar'  ye  wearin'  thim  togs  for?'  sez  Oi.  He  had  a 
blyue  cap  loike  a  condhuctor  an'  a  blue  shoot  buttoned  up 
to  his  chin,  an'  he  lukt  for  all  th'  wurruld  loike  a  sowljer 
widout  his  gun,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  'Oi'm  runuin'  a  hot- 
to-molly-billy  now/  sez  he.  'An'  fwhat  in  th'  name  av  all 
that's  howly  is  that,  Dinnis  ?'  sez  Oi.  'A  horseless  cab,'  sez 
he;  'wud  ye  moind  havin'  a  bit  av  a  roide  in  id?'  sez  he, 
takin'  me  over  an'  showin'  me  th'  thing,  fwhich  was  open- 
faced  loike  a  handsome  caab,  but  had  no  horse  in  front  av 
id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  'Step  in  antil  Oi  show  ye  how  it 
works,'  sez  he.  'Not  an  yer  tooty-frooty,'  sez  Oi.  'No 
haarm'll  come  to  ye,'  sez  he.  'Oi'll  howld  ye  tin  dollars 
there'll  not,'  sez  Oi,  'fur  Oi'll  not  go  in  id,'  sez  Oi.  'Tins 
av  thousan's  roide  in  id,'  sez  he,  'an'  no  wan  is  uver  hurted,' 
sez  he.  'That's  no  raison  fwhy  Oi  shud  be  th'  fust  to 
break  me  nick,'  sez  Oi.  But  he  talked  an'  talked,  an'  got  so 
pursuadin'  that  Oi  gev  in  an'  got  into  the  hot-to-molly- 
billy  at  lasht,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  howldin'  me  ros'ry 
haard  in  me  hand  an'  sayin'  me  pray'rs  as  fasht  as  Oi  kud, 
Oi  towld  him  to  go  ahead.  Well,  the  Lord  bechuxt  iz  an' 
haarm,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  fwhin  he  turnt  into  the 
car  thraacks  an'  began  to  shquirt  along  at  a  moile  a  minnit 
gait,  goin'  peltin'  up  the  sthreet,  wud  caars  comin'  this  way 
an*  carriages  an'  thrucks  comin'  that  way,  an'  nawthin' 
bechuxt  mesilf  an'  thimselves  but  suddint  death,  me  hair 
ruz  an'  ind  an'  me  haart  flutthered  up  into  me  throat,  an'  aff 
uver  Dinnis  Hanrahan  got  a  cursin'  an.'  his  sowl  a  dangin* 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  2? 

he  got  id  thin  1  Yurra !  Ynrra !  But  Oi  was  th'  vext  an* 
scairt  woman,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  We  went  loike  th'  wind, 
me  frind — daartin'  bechuxt  cars  here  an'  bangin'  into 
thrucks  there  an*  swingin'  an'  rowlin'  an'  buzzin'  along  as 
aff  the  very  divil  himsilf  was  afther  iz.  Oi  was  sure  that 
uvry  minnit  ud  be  me  nuxt,  an'  Oi  was  thinkin'  fwhat  a 
tumble  lukin'  cawrpse  Oi'd  be  fwhin  they  pult  me  out 
from  andher  a  caar  an'  sint  me  to  Charley  Rairdon's  an- 
dhertakin'  establishmint  to  be  imbalmed,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty.  Dinnis  was  up  an  top  an'  Oi  kudn't  raich  him, 
aither  wud  me  v'ice  or  me  hand,  so  there  Oi  sot  sweepin' 
an  to  me  own  desthruction,  wild  me  eyes  full  av  id  uvry 
fut  we  wint,  an'  me  prayin'  an'  cursin'  an'  howldin'  me 
breath  expectin'  to  be  dasht  to  paices  uvry  suckond.  Oh, 
but  aff  Oi  had  a  howlt  av  Dinnis  Hanrahan  fwhin  he  was 
hot-to-molly-billyin'  me  up  Broadway,  it's  not  manny  more 
daycent  widdies  he'd  be  afther  hot-to-molly-billyin'  an* 
scarin'  all  a  most  to  death  wud  his  divil's  own  invintion, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  An'  Oi  up  an'  towlt  him  as  mooch 
fwhin  he  shtopt  th'  cab  afther  Oi  hollered  meelia  murdher 
an'  threatened  to  have  him  arrested  fur  his  doidoes.  'Sure 
an'  ye  warn't  hurted,'  sez  he.  'No,'  sez  Oi,  'an'  it's  no 
thanks  to  you,  aither,  that  me  brains  warn't  dasht  out!' 
sez  Oi.  'Oh,  ye're  behoind  the  toimes,'  sez  he,  wud  a  curl 
an  his  upper  lip.  'Mebbe  Oi  am,'  sez  Oi,  'but  Oi'd  sooner  be 
that  way  an'  behoind  a  harsc,'  sez  Oi,  'than  be  med  fit  fur  a 
hearse  be  you  an'  yer  crazy  hot-to-molly-billy,'  sez  Oi.  Oi 
sed  a  great  dale  more  to  him,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  Oi 
was  that  excoited  an'  out  av  timper  that  Oi  can't  renumber 
id  all.  Oi  gev  him  a  gud  paice  av  me  moind  anyway,  an* 
he'll  nuvver  ax  me  to  roide  in  his  murdherin'  owld  hot-to- 
molly-billy  agin  th'  longest  day  he  lives,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
"Oi  wint  straight  to  church  afther  Oi  got  home,  me 
frind,  an'  thankt  th'  good  Lord  for  his  koindness  in  savin' 


28  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

me  loife  that  day,  fur  it  was  an  awful  narrow  escape,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty.  But  laivin'  all  that  asoide,  me  frind,  isn't 
id  a  mane  thing  to  be  invintin'  thim  hot-to-molly-billies 
an'  throwin'  th'  poor  harses  out  av  work  ?  Sure'n  fur  uvry 
hot  a  harse  must  go — and  f where  to,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty? 
To  Jursey  beyant,  av  coorse,  to  be  med  into  Frankfurthers 
an'  weeny-wushes,  so  that  th'  Ditch  may  ait  thim.  Begorry, 
do  ye  know  fwhat,  but  Oi'm  afther  thinkm'  it's  th'  Ditch 
that  invinted  thim  hots,  so  that  they  kud  have  all  th'  more 
ween^y-wushes  an'  Frankfurthers,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi'll 
put  th'  Croolty  Society  an  to  thim — that's  fwhat  I'll  do,  me 
frind. 

"Oi  suppose  your  Jerry'll  soon  be  sittin'  an  top  av  a 
hot-to-molly-billy  ash  caart  shkoitin'  back  an'  forth  to  th' 
dump,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Fur  it's  bound  to  come,  they 
say.  Fust  th'  harseless  carriage,  thin  the  harseless  thruck, 
thin  th'  harseless  ash  caart,  an'  thin,  th'  harseless  harses, 
fwhich  manes  no  harses  at  all  at  all.  Fwhat'll  th'  faarmers 
an'  th'  hay  an'  feed  shtore  min  an'  the  harniss  makers  an' 
th'  liv'ry  shtable  keepers  do  thin,  Oi  don't  know?  My 
b'y  Tommy,  who  is  a  little  rascal,  sez  th'  farmers'll  quit 
cuttin'  hay  an'  go  to  cuttin'  their  fwhiskers,  but  I'm  afraid 
that's  only  a  joke  av  his.  But  fwhin  Jerry  gets  his  hot-to- 
molly-billy  ash  caart,  don't,  as  ye  value  yer  loife,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,  laive  him  take  ye  out  roidin'  in  id.  He'll  be  a 
widdyer  aff  ye  do.  An'  do  ye  make  him  soign  th'  pledge, 
me  frind,  fur  no  man  that's  as  fond  av  th'  dhrink  as  your 
Jerry  is  has  anny  bizniss  an  th'  top  av  a  hot-to-molly-billy, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  It  takes  a  moighty  sober  man  wid  a 
clane  conscience  an  a  noice  pinny  av  insurance  an  his  loife 
to  run  wan  av  thim  things,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  2Q 


THE  QUEEN  OF  IRELAND. 

"Sure  an'  fwhat's  this  nonsinse  they  do  be  talkin'  about 
makin'  Consooleo  Vandherbilk,  Doochess  av  Maarlborough, 
th'  Queen  av  Oireland,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?"  said  the 
Widow. 

"Divii  a  wan  av  me  heerd  tell  av  id  at  all,  at  all,  Mrs. 
Magoogin,"  said  the  neighbor. 

"That's  because  ye  don't  read  th'  noospapers,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,"  said  the  Widow.  "Aff  ye  want  to  foind  out 
fwhat's  goin'  an  in  this  wurruld,  me  frind,  ye'll  have  to 
aither  read  the  paapers  ur  get  id  from  Mrs.  Clannigan  in 
th'  nuxt  house,  who  can  tell  ye  all  that's  worth  tellin'  about 
uvrybody,  from  Ted  Murphy's  daughter  that  purtinds  to  be 
a  throipewriter  an'  wears  doiminds  th'  soize  av  a  lump  av 
coal  to  Prisidint  McKinley  an'  Maark  Hanna  an'  th'  other 
min  that  guoide  th'  ship  av  state  an'  give  th'  thrusts  caard 
blanck  to  sell  workin'min  sugar  an'  coffee  an'  tay  at  proices 
that  ud  staartle  a  millionaire. 

"But  id  wasn't  from  Mrs.  Clannigan  I  hurd  about  Con 
sooleo,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  She's  a  noice  daycint  gerrul  an' 
th'  breath  av  scandal  has  nuvver  s'iled  her  reppytation,  so 
Mrs.  Ciannigan  ud  know  very  little  about  her;  but  it's  in 
th;  noospaper  me  daughther  Toozy  read  it.  Queen  Victory, 
the  paaper  sez,  is  goin'  to  app'int  th'  Juke  av  Maarlborough 
Vicr'y  av  Oireland  an'  he'll  take  his  American  woife  an' 
the  babies  along,  an'  that'll  vertooally  make  Consooleo  th' 
Queen  av  Oireland.  Maark  ye,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Oi  sed 
vertooally — fwhich  manes  not  exactly  but  purty  nearly,  do 
ye  see?  So  fwhoile  Consooleo'll  not  be  railly  an  thruly  a 
Queen,  she'll  come  so  close  to  id  that  nobody  but  a  few  av 
iz  fwhich  andherstands  th'  rtaaimn'  av  th'  wurd  vertooally- 


3O  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

'11  know  th'  difference.  That's  fwhat  eddicashun  diz  fur 
ye,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  It's  a  great  thing,  even  though  it 
is  so  chaip  in  this  country  that  uvrybody  kin  have  id  loike 
th'  rheumatiz  an'  th'  nooralgica. 

"That'll  be  two  American  queens  we'll  have,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,  fur  isn't  wan  av  th'  Leiter  gerruls  from  She- 
caggy  th'  Queen  av  Choiny  ur  Injy,  ur  somethin'  loike  that  ? 
An'  id's  proud  Oi  am  av  thim,  me  frind,  an'  may  they  live 
long  an'  their  reigns  be  happy,  loike  th'  kings  an'  queens 
in  th'  fairy  shtories.  But  fwhat  aggravates  me,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,  is  that  Queen  Victory  ur  anybody  else  outsoide 
av  Oireland  itself  shud  be  pickin'  out  queens  and  kings  to 
rule  over  owld  Ayrin.  Fwhat  roight  has  Queen  Victory 
to  say  who  shall  be  Queen  av  Oireland,  an  fwhat  roight  has 
she  to  app'int  an  American  gerrul  to  sit  an  th'  throne  av 
Broian  Boroo  an'  Murtuough  O'Brien?  Sure  an'  there's 
not  a  dhrop  av  Oirish  blud  in  Consooleo's  veins,  an'  she 
kud  no  more  bake  a  peyatie  cake  that  ud  suit  my  cousin, 
Moike  Magoogin,  ur  do  th'  anners  at  an  Oirish  wake  than 
Oi  kud  play  'The  Haarp  that  Wanst  Thro'  Tara's  Halls' 
an  a  church  organ,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Moind  ye,  now,  me 
frind,  Oi  have  nothin'  agin  Consooleo  beyant  th'  fact  that 
she's  not  Oirish,  an'  so's  not  fit  to  be  th'  Queen  av  Oireland. 
Those  that  knows  her  sez  she's  a  very  foine  young  woman 
an'  a  credit  to  th'  counthry  that  gev  her  birth;  she  makes 
spaiches  at  th'  sewin'  circle  meetin's  she  attinds  an'  she 
dances  th'  two-step  loike  a  bird  at  the  royal  hops  that  ar' 
given  in  Balmoral  Castle ;  an'  f what's  betther  than  all  else, 
she's  a  gud  woife  an'  mother — fwhich  she  kin  afford  to  be, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  seein'  that  she  has  the  lashin's  an' 
laivin's  av  mooney  an'  doesn't  have  to  be  botherin'  her  head 
about  fwhere  th'  next  pint  av  beer  is  comin'  from.  But 
fur  all  that,  me  frind,  there's  manny  a  gerrul  in  the  County 
Connaught  that  ud  make  her  luk  loike  tin  cints  fwliin  it 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  3! 

comes  to  bein'  Queen  av  Oireland,  an'  id's  wan  av  thim 
gerruls  that  knows  fwhat  Oireland  wants,  an'  that's  brung 
up  in  the  Owld  Daart  that  ought  to  be  the  Queen  aff  anny- 
body  is. 

"Faix'n  Oi  don't  know  but  fwhat  Oi'd  loike  to  have  th' 
job  mesilf,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  It's  gettin'  a  little  owld 
now  Oi  am  an'  toired  av  takin'  in  washin'  an'  livin'  th' 
gay  loife  av  a  fat  owld  widdy,  an'  aff  Queen  Victory  ud 
only  put  me  name  down  fur  th'  place  an'  say  Oi  kud  have  id 
Oi'd  bony  th'  money  in  'th'  nuxt  tin  minnits  to  pay  me 
passage  over  in  the  steerage  an'  Oi'd  be  howldin'  th'  throne 
down  an'  dhrinkin'  th'  finest  Poort  woine  in  th'  palace  in 
a  moighty  few  days  afther  Oi  landed,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"Oi  was  tcllin'  me  daughter  Toozy  about  it  an'  she 
laiight  at  me.  'Fwhat  have  ye  bin  smokin',  mimmaw,' 
sez  she.  'Divil  th'  thing  at  all/  sez  Oi.  'Oh,  yes,  ye  must,' 
sez  she;  'ye  must  have  been  hittin'  th'  dope  ur  ye  wudn't 
talk  that  ways,'  sez  she.  'Musha  bad  dang  to  ye,'  sez  Oi, 
'but  id's  th'  quare  oidaya  ye  have  av  yer  mother,'  sez  Oi, 
'to  be  afther  comparin'  her  to  a  Choinyman  an'  tell  her  that 
she  smokes  dope,'  sez  Oi.  'But  ye  talk  so  silly,  mimmaw,' 
sez  she.  'Oh,  Oi  do,  do  Oi  ?'  sez  Oi.  *Yes/  sez  she,  'ye  talk 
in  raag  toime.'  'Take  care,'  sez  Oi,  'or  yerself  '11  be  prayin' 
in  raag  toime  fwhile  th'  dockthor  is  sewin'  up  th'  cut  Oi'll 
give  in  the  back  av  th'  poll  wud  this  stove  lifter,'  sez  Oi. 
'Oi  suppose  that's  fwhat  ye'd  be  doin',  too,  aff  ye  war  Queen 
av  Oireland,''  sez  she,  'foightin'  an'  batin'  people  all  the 
toime,'  sez  she.  'Thin  ye're  supposin'  both  roight  an' 
wrong,  me  gintle  hussy,'  sez  Oi,  'fur  fwhoile  Oi'm  as  paice- 
able  an'  aisy-goin'  a  woman  as  uver  dhrew  th'  breath  av 
loife,'  sez  Oi,  'Oi'll  laive  robody  get  the  best  av  me,'  sez  Oi, 
'an  aff  anybody  throies  to  throw  their  ashes  an  my  box  av 
geraneems  in  th'  back  yard  ur  to  pull  my  wasliin*  aff  th' 
loine,'  sez  Oi,  'there'll  be  a  bloody  ruction  an'  soniebodyTL 


32  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

get  th'  worst  av  id,  an'  id  won't  be  Queen  Birdie,  av  th' 
House  av  Magoogin,  aither,  me  foine  lady/  sez  Oi.  'That's 
roight,  mudder,'  sez  my  b'y  Tammy,  spaikin'  up  fur  me, 
'don't  let  nobody  give  ye  th'  skewjee.'  'Throth  an'  Oi'll  not, 
Tammy,  nur  th'  skewjo,  naither,'  sez  Oi,  'an'  aff  uver  Oi 
get  to  be  Queen  av  Oireland.  me  bouchal,'  sez  Oi,  "Oi'll  buy 
ye  a  baseball  club  av  yer  own  so  ye  kin  have  id  to  play  loike 
ye  want,'  sez  Oi,  'an'  thin  ye  won't  have  to  be  callin'  th' 
Noo  Yorruk  Baseball  Club  bad  names  because  their  playin' 
dozn't  suit  ye,'  sez  Oi. 

"But  laivin'  all  discoorse  an'  consthruin'  asoide,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty,  Oi  can't  fur  th'  loife  uv  me  see  fwhy  th'  Queen 
Victory  wudn't  pick  out  a  noice  owld  widdy  woman  loike 
herself  to  be  0  Ireland's  Queen,  inshtid  av  a  young  gerrul 
that  has  money  to  burn  an'  a  foine  sthrappin'  young  Jook 
av  a  husband  to  Avurruck  fur  her  support  besides.  Oi  sup 
pose,  though,  that  down  in  her  black  heart  she  dizn't  want 
to  give  th'  Oirish  air  a  chance  at  all  an'  so  there'd  be  no 
use  in  me  writin'  her  a  few  loines  an  the  subject.  She'll 
app'int  Consooleo,  fwhether  or  no,  an'  th'  Oirish  that  even 
in  this  counthry  ar'  nuvver  ruled  be  any  other  nationality 
but  their  own'll  have  to  bow  their  nicks  to  th'  yoke  av  a 
furriner.  Divil  resarve  th'  hope  there'll  iver  be  fur  poor 
owld  Oireland  antil  Dick  Croker  an'  Tammany  Hall  buys 
id — lock,  shtock  an'  barrel — from  England,  an'  makes 
some  good  woman  loike  mesilf  that's  Oirish  as  Billy  be 
danged,  th'  Queen  an'  Impriss  av  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 


WIDOW  MAGOOGIN.  33 


THE  COMET. 

"Luk  out  fur  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  I" 

"Luk  out  fur  f what,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"Fwhy,  fur  the  comick,  to  be  sure,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Fwhat  do  Oi  care  fur  yer  comick  ?  Sure  an'  id  kin  do 
me  no  harrum,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Oh,  my,  but  ain't  we  brave!  Take  care  that  it's  not 
talkin'  wud  th'  other  soide  av  yer  mout'  that  ye'll  be  afther 
doin  'to-noight,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"An'  because,  an'  fur  f why,  Mr?,  Magoogin  ?" 

"Because  the  comick's  comin'  at  iz  as  harrud  as  it  kin, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow,  solemnly,  "an'  aff  id 
dizn't  knock  iz  to  kingdom  come  thin  thim  purfessors  that 
reads  th'  shtars  in  the  skoy  an'  thim  noospaper  repoorters 
that  wroites  about  uvrythin'  frum  Peg  Lucas'  dhrunken 
daughter  to  th'  day  av  judgment  ar'  th'  biggest  loiars  Oi 
uver  hurd  tell  av,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Fur  sure'n'  don't 
they  tell  iz  that  th'  comick  has  its  foightin'  clothes  an  an' 
is  comin'  fur  iz  loike  a  shot  out  av  a  gun.  Id's  not  makin' 
mooch  n'ise  fwhoile  id's  comin',  but  there'll  be  a  hell  av  a 
hullabaloo  fwhin  id  gets  here,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty — there'll 
be  more  n'ise  than  a  Choinaise  Noo  Year's  an'  more  ux- 
coitemint  than  there  is  in  a  futball  game.  Moind  fwhat 
Oi'm  tellin'  ye,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  do  yerself  an'  Jurry 
get  down  an  yer  two  marrow  bones  this  blissid  noight  an' 
pray  to  God  to  make  ye  fit  to  doie,  ur  maybe — the  gud  Lord 
save  iz  an  guard  iz  from  harrum ! — the  divil'll  have  a  big 
double  funeril  an  his  hands  in  Churry  Sthreet  afther  the 
comick  gives  this  wurruld  a  clout  an'  knocks  iz  into  th' 
middle  av  nuxt  waik.  Yurra !  yurra !  but  there'll  be  tumble 
toirnes,  they  say.  The  comick  has  a  tail  loike  a  say  sarpint, 


34  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  id's  more  than  twinty-noine  moiles  long 
an'  wud  wan  swoipe  av  that  tail,  my  b'y  Tammy  tells  me,  it 
kud  daymolish  uvry  home  in  Noo  Yorruk  bechuxt  Harlim 
an'  th'  Batthery.  Oh,  but  id  has  a  powerful  tail,  an'  fwhin 
it  comes  at  iz  wud  id  to-noight,  the  Lord  help  those  that 
ar'  out  playin'  cards  an'  bellyards  an'  that  have  no  homes 
to  go  to,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  That's  fwhat  they  say,  me 
frind.  Some  av  th'  asthrologers  tells  iz  that  the  airth'll 
be  destr'yed  intoirely  an'  some  tells  iz  that  th'  comick'll 
get  th'  worst  av  id,  but  they  all  agree  that  there'll  be 
throuble  av  some  soort  an'  that  fwhin  th'  two  joi'nts 
grapple  somethin'll  tear  loose  an'  get  lost  in  the  shuffle.  Oi 
hope  id  won't  be  my  poor  Billy  goat,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
He's  not  afeerd  av  comicks  ur  anythin'  else  an'  maybe  aff 
Oi  kud  make  him  andhershtan'  fwhat's  in  shtore  fur  all 
av  iz  he'd  come  home  airly  to-noight  an'  laive  the 
O'Connor's  lace  curtains  alone  an'  quit  aitin'  up  Mrs.  Mc- 
Grogan's  dure  mat  that  she  gev  $2.50  fur  two  years  ago 
comin'  nuxt  Pathrick's  Day,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  That's 
all  Oi'm  afeert  av,  is  th'  goat,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  fur  me 
daughther  sez  she'll  hoide  andher  th'  bed  an'  Tammy'll  be 
playin'  pools  in  Brady's  caffay,  an'  meself — well,  as  fur 
meself,  me  frind,  Oi'll  be  sittin'  in  the  kitchin  beyant 
dhrinkin'  me  beer  an'  fwhisperin'  me  pray'rs  fur  meself 
an'  waitin'  fur  the  row  to  begin.  Moind  ye,  Oi  have  no 
compoonctions  an  me  own  account,  me  frind,  fur  me  sowl 
is  clane  av  sin  an'  Oi'm  not  goin'  into  mournin'  afore  I'm 
kilt,  but  Oi'll  tell  ye  fwhat,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  it  id 
make  me  feel  rale  bad  aff  this  yairth  av  ours  was  to 
be  knockt  out  be  a  monkey  thing  loike  a  comick  wud  a  tail 
an  id.  Ow  wow !  but  Oi  wish  they'd  sind  down  a  comick  av 
my  soize  to  tackle  me.  Maybe  Oi  wudn't  twisht  id's  tail ! 
Divil  busht  me  aff  Oi  wudn't  twisht  id  till  the  tears  ran  out 
av  id's  oyes,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 


WIDOW  MAGOOGIN.  35 


SOMETHING  ABOUT  STEIKES. 

"Is  th'  shtrick  over,  Oi  don't  know,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 

"Faix  'n'  id's  not,  Mrs.  Magoogin — no  soigns  av  id 
bein'  over  id,  me  frind." 

"Isn't  id  too  bad  intoirely,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 

"Throth  'n'  id  is — bad  enoof  fur  me,  at  anny  rate,  fur 
Oi  have  me  husband  Jurry  at  home  an  me  hands,  an' 
fwhat  wud  divil  a  cint  comin'  in  an'  a  nuistigance  av  a 
man  around  th'  house  it  fairly  makes  me  sick,  so  it  diz,  Mrs. 
Magoogin." 

"An  'ar'  th'  had  carriers  an  shtrick,  too,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty?" 

"Sure  an'  there's  no  breek  fur  thim,  woman,  an'  fwhat's 
th'  use  av  hads  fwhin  there's  no  breek  ur  morther  to  be 
carried  in  thim,  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 

"Yurra  that's  so,  mavoorneen." 

"Musha,  bad  luck  to  thimselves  an'  their  sthricks,  say  Oi, 
Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Ah-min!  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  and  then  the  Widow, 
stretching  herself  across  the  fence,  began  to  elucidate. 
"Fwhat's  th'  manin'  av  their  shtricks  anny  way,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty?"  she  said;  "they're  always  shtrickin'  an' 
shtrickin'  an'  shtrickin'  fur  somethin',  me  frind,  and  be 
the  bloind  harse  av  Moses,  Oi  nuver  see  thim  get  anny 
gud  out  av  id,  uxcept  to  be  oidle  an'  do  nawhtin'  an'  get  no 
pay  fur  id.  The  whole  ins  an'  outs  of  id — th'  rale  thrue 
an'  unmishtakenable  saycrit  av  id  is  this,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty 
— the  man  that  gets  a  dollar  a  day  goes  out  an  a  shtrick 
an'  he  gets  nawthin'.  It's  th'  deffrince  bechuxt  a  dollar 
an'  nawthin'  that's  th'  deffrince  bechuxt  th'  man  an  a 


36  WIDOW  MAGOOGIN. 

shtrick  an'  th'  man  not  an  a  shtrick.  Kemimber,  me  f  rind, 
that  Oi'm  not  agin  th'  lab'rin'  man — Oi  aim  me  own  livin' 
mesilf,  as  uv'ry  daycint  widdy  woman  in  th'  land  shud  do, 
but  Oi'm  agin  th'  min  that  puts  mainness  an'  divilment 
into  their  heads  an'  takes  thim  away  fram  their  wurruk 
an'  pay,  an'  laives  their  woives  an'  childher  to  shtarve,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty.  Let  thim  laive  th'  wurrukin'  man  alone, 
f  why  don't  they,  an'  he'll  harrum  naither  himself  nor  anny- 
body  else.  But,  no,  thim  alligators  that  gets  ped  fur 
shturrin'  up  these  rumpisses  musht  come  along  an'  make 
thim  go  out  an  their  shtricks.  By  th'  gonnies!  but  Oi'd 
alligator  thim  aff  they  uver  come  around  thryin'  anny  av 
their  alligatherin'  wud  me — thim  an'  th'  walkin'  dellygates ! 
Oi'd  make  shkoitin'  dellygates  av  thim  aff  they  throied 
anny  av  their  doidoes  an  yours  throoly,  Berdie  Magoogin, 
Ushquoire,  so  Oi  wud,  an'  that  moighty  quick,  too. 

"My  b'y,  Tammy,  is  always  in  fur  anny  throuble  av  this 
koind — he  always  sez  th'  min  an  sthrick  has  his  sym — he 
mains  his  sympattios,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  he  shticks 
up  fur  thim  loike  uv'rything.  Howsomuver,  wan  day,  Oi 
axed  Tammy  to  take  th'  can  an'  loike  a  gud  b'y  go  an'  run 
an'  bring  a  nickel  av  beer.  Twhat'll  ye  give  me?'  sez  he. 
'A  pinny,  Tammy,  alanna,'  sez  Oi.  'An'  fwhat  gud's  a 
pinny  ?'  sez  he.  'You  kin  buy  yoursel'  a  rewolower  wud  id, 
Tammy,  an'  ye've  bin  wantin'  a  rewolower  so  long,  me 
darlint,'  sez  Oi.  'Aw,  go  an'  git  out,'  sez  he.  'Oi'll  not 
bring  no  beer  fur  nobody  fur  a  shtinkin'  little  owld  pinny,' 
sez  he.  'Oh,  ye'll  not?'  sez  Oi.  'No,  Oi'll  not,'  sez  he. 
'Oi'm  an  a  sthrick.'  'Oh,  ho,  an'  so  ye're  an  a  shtrick, 
Tammy,  agrah?'  sez  Oi,  all  the  fwhoile  raichin'  me  hand 
behoind  the  shtove  fur  th'  pittaty  poundher.  'Yis,  Oi  am/ 
sez  he,  turnin'  to  go  out  th'  dure.  'An'  so  am  Oi,'  sez  Oi, 
comin'  behoind  him  wud  th'  poundher  an'  givin'  him  a 
clip  av  id  in  th'  poll  that  filled  his  head  wud  firecrackers 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  37 

an'  shkoy  rockets.  Well,  do  ye  know,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  he 
shcraimed  as  aff  he  was  kilt  outroight  an'  Oi  had  to  bowlt 
th'  dures  an'  windies  to  keep  th'  whole  neighborhood  fram 
hearin'  him.  He  got  over  id  afther  a  fwhoile,  though,  an' 
wint  fur  th'  beer  an'  nuver  axed  even  fur  th'  pinny.  That 
was  th'  fursht  an'  th'  lasht  shtrick  he  wint  an,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty.  Oi'm  the  laddy  buck  that  shtands  no  fool 
ishness,  me  f  rind !" 


BARRING  CHILDREN  OUT  OF  FLATS. 

"Fwhy  dizn't  ye  rint  a  flat,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?"  the 
Widow  Magoogin  inquired. 

"For  why,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?"  the  neighbor  asked 

"Oh,  bekase  it  id  be  so  aisy  fur  ye  to  get  wan ;  ye  haves 
no  childher,  do  you  moind,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the 
Widow. 

'That's  thrue  fur  you,"  the  neighbor  replied.  "But  what 
has  childher  to  do  wid  rintin'  flats,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"Uvrythin',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow ;  "uv'ry- 
thin'  in  the  wurrild,  bekase  aff  ye  haves  the  shloightist 
shushpeecions  av  childher  about  ye  now  the  divil  a  chance 
ye  shtand  at  all,  at  all,  av  gittin'  yer  nose  insoide  the  dure, 
to  say  naythin'  av  gittin'  the  roof  over  yer  head.  'No  chil 
dher  need  apploy'  is  the  motto  av  the  flats  fwhereuver  ye 
go  to-day.  Bad  dang  to  thim,  but  id's  gettin'  to  be  a 
croime  to  have  a  kid  av  yer  own.  Wan  id  think  there  was 
somethin'  shameful  and  disgracin'  about  bein'  the  mother 
av  a  family  be  the  way  they  acts  fwhin  ye  go  to  rint  a 
house.  'Have  ye  anny  childher  ?'  sez  they.  'Two  air  tree, 
or  tin  ur  twinty,'  sez  you,  aceordin'  to  the  num'er.  'An' 
how  owld  is  th'  youngesht?'  sez  they.  'Six  months/  sez 


38  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

you.  'Thin  shloide  aff  an  yer  eyebrow,'  sez  they,  'fur  we 
don't  want  no  childher  in  this  flat,'  sez  they.  Twhat's  the 
bej'ection?'  sez  you.  'Nawthin'  only  they're  dang  noo- 
shinces,'  sez  they,  an'  away  ye  go,  hangin'  yer  head,  wid 
yer  heart  dhroopin'  an'  blishes  playin'  up  an'  down  yer 
boickbone,  reelin'  loike  a  shaved  dog  in  a  rainshtorm, 
simply  becase  ye  have  eight  ur  tin  little  wans  at  home  that 
ar'  a  dishgrace  to  ye. 

"Oi  wandher  aff  anny  av  these  flat  owners  uver  war  chil 
dher  thimsel's.  Oi'll  howld  air  a  wan  av  thim  tin  dollars 
that  he  nuver  was  bawrned,  but  that  the  fairies  changed 
him  in  the  cradle,  an'  that  aff  ye  pit  him  an  a  shovel  an' 
howld  him  over  the  foire  he'll  holler  loike  the  very  divil 
himsel'.  Peel  the  hoide  aff  av  him  an'  belyow  id  ye'll  foind 
a  leprechaun.  Fwhishper,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  fwhat'll  the 
wuruld  come  to,  me  frind,  aff  id's  goin'  to  be  a  croime  to 
have  childher?  They  won't  rint  iz  their  houses,  now; 
they'll  be  puttin'  iz  in  jail  nuxt  waik,  mebbe,  an'  thin  the 
moonth  af  ther  they'll  be  takin'  iz  out  an'  shwingin'  iz  hoigh 
an'  happy  from  the  gallows,  an'  all  bekase  God  has  bin 
gud  enoof  to  iz  to  give  iz  a  gossoon  ur  two  to  be  throublin.' 
oursel's  wid. 

"Thunder  an'  turf,  but  isn't  id  main  the  payple  are  all 
gettin'  to  be  intoirely!  A  f while  ago  there  ushed  to  bo 
baby  shows  wud  proizes  for  babies,  an'  the  moother  that 
had  a  string  av  youngsters  stretchin'  half  aroun'  a  block 
was  the  proide  an'  anner  av  her  seek.  To-day  she's  dish- 
poised  an'  reddykuled,  and  fwhin  a  woman  wants  to  rint  a 
house  she's  got  to  be  able  to  shwear  that  she  has  no  cerky- 
lation  at  all,  an'  make  an  oath  an  a  shtack  of  Boibles  also 
that  so  lang  as  she  lives  an  the  primises  she'll  not  have  a 
baby  ur  aivin  luk  cruked  at  wan,  so  help  her  Gin'ral  Jack 
son.  Babies  makes  min  an'  wimmin,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
an'  aff  the  folks  that  builds  houses  is  goin'  to  discrinuny- 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  39 

nate  against  the  darlint  little  craythurs  that  we  jaggle  an 
our  knees,  thin  the  min  an'  wimmin  av  the  fucher  '11  have 
to  be  bawrned  in  shtables  ur  opin  lots,  ur  not  be  bawrned 
at  all,  be  gonnies." 


THE  GREAT  AMERICAN  HOG. 

"Did  ye  uver  see  a  hog,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 

"Is  id  a  hog  ye  mane,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"Yis,  ma'am,  a  hog — a  rale  owld  bryute  in  hewman 
forrum,  Mrs,  McGlaggerty." 

"An'  is  that  th'  koind  av  hog  id  is,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"That  an'  none  other,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the 
widow,  "an  id's  manny's  the  wan  av  thim  ye've  seen  aff  ye'd 
only  know'd  id,  me  frind.  The  papers  is  wroitin'  up  th' 
great  Amerrykin  hog  uv'ry  day  now,  an'  annybody  that 
nuver  saw  wan  kin  mighty  purty  soon  foind  out  fwhat  the 
hog  is  an'  fwhat  he  luks  loike.  There's  the  hog  that  chews 
tobacky  in  th'  sthreet  carrs,  an'  the  hog  that  crasses  his 
f  ut  over  an  to  yer  new  gingham  dhress  f  whin  id  has  mud  an 
id,  bad  luk  to  him  fur  th'  mane  an'  durrty  owld  hog  that 
he  is,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  th'  fat  hog  that's  so  fat  that 
he  takes  up  all  th'  sait  an'  don't  laive  as  mooch  as  th' 
breadth  av  yer  nail  fur  a  noice  an'  daycint-soized  faymale 
loike  mesel',  an' — but,  oh  my !  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  the  worst 
an'  mainest  an'  bla'guardistist  hog  av  thim  all  is  th'  able- 
bodied  man  that  sits  shtill  in  his  sait,  readin'  th'  advertoise- 
ments  in  th'  papers  an'  laives  th'  gerruls  an'  woinin 
shtandin'  up  in  th'  caars  an  their  two  feet,  no  matther  how 
toired  ur  throubled  they  may  be.  Upon  me  sowl,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,  Oi  often  feel  loike  takin'  wan  av  thim  be  th' 
scruff  av  th'  nick  an'  roisin'  him  out  av  his  sait  an'  rowlia' 


4O  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

him  upon  the  flyure.  Fur  two  pins  Oi'd  bo  afthcr  doin'  id 
sometoimes,  jusht  fur  the  purpose  av  teachin'  the  ould  pork 
and  bains  a  lesson,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Some  payple  thinks 
th'  shmashers  is  hogs,  but  Oi  don't.  Oi  have  nawthin'  in 
the  wurruld  agin  the  shmashers.  They're  very  purty  min 
an'  they  shmoiles  an  you,  oh,  so  cutely,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty ! 
They  shmoiles  at  me  all  the  toime.  My  b'y  Tammy  sez  they 
musht  be  bloind  ur  have  a  pain  in  the  sthummick  to  shmoile 
at  me,  an*  me  daughter  Toozy  sez  Oi'm  gettin'  silly ;  but 
we  hear  ducks,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi'm  not  half  as  silly 
as  some  Oi  know  that  ar'  younger  an'  sillier  than  me. 
Shmashers  kin  do  me  no  harrum,  me  frind.  Oi  let  thim 
shmoile  an  me  wud  th'  greatest  av  annimosity,  because  Oi 
takes  id  as  a  complimint  to  me  beauty,  do  ye  see,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,  an'  not  as  an  insult  to  me  repytation,  as  some 
owld  faymale  cranks  diz.  Th'  shmasher's  no  hog,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,  anyways  he's  got  no  shnout  an  him,  loike  th' 
hogs  that  won't  give  their  saits  to  ladies.  Bad  sesht  to  th' 
langwid  luxuriosity  av  thim  same  sait-howlding  hogs !  But 
id's  aften  an'  aften  Oi've  thawt  Oi'd  loike  to  plunk  down 
into  wan  av  their  laps  aff  id  wasn't  fur  the  shcandaliousniss 
that  it  id  cause,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  'Pon  me  sowl,  id's  a 
fact,  me  frind !" 


KEEPING  COOL  IN  HOT  WEATHER  . 

"It's  quare,  isn't  it,  that  uvrybody's  remonsthratin' 
about  the  hait,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow. 

"An'  fur  why  shudn't  they,  Mrs.  Magoogin?  Sure  an' 
isn't  it  hot  enough  in  the  sun  to  bile  a  peaytie  widout  pot 
ur  wather  ur  anything  else,  agrah?" 

"Nonsinse,  nonsinse,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  replied  the 
Widow.  "It's  nothing  but  the  woild  ravins  av  a  disaised 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  4! 

imagineeshun,  as  me  daughter  Toozy  wud  say.  Fwhy, 
this  weather's  not  hot  enough  to  bring  the  bloosh  av  shame 
to  the  cheek  av  a  red-headed  gerrul,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Arrah,  fwhat  are  ye  talkin'  about,  woman  aloive?" 
broke  in  the  neighbor.  "Have  ye  taken  laive  ov  yer  elivin 
sinses  entoirely  ur  don't  ye  know  that  the  hait  is  killin' 
payple  be  the  thousands,  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 

"Oi'm  fully  an'  intoirely  aware,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty," 
said  the  Widow,  assuming  about  fifteen  cents'  worth  of 
dignity,  "that  many  are  doyin'  this  summer  that  didn't 
doie  lasht  winther,  but  it's  their  own  faults,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  an'  the  poor  innocint  hait  ought  no  more  to  be 
blamed  fur  it  than  Oi  shud  be  foined  tin  dollars  fur 
cuttin'  me  own  head  aff  this  very  minnit,  Mrs,  McGlag 
gerty.  The  throuble  wid  the  payple  that  gets  sunsthruck, 
me  frind,  is  that  they  don't  know  how  to  keep  cool  whin 
the  thrimmomether  begins-  to  bile.  As,  for  insthance,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  Oi  have  a  cousin,  Jurry  Hoolihin,  who 
dhroives  a  Fusht  Avenyoo  car-r,  an'  fwhether  you'll  belaive 
me  ur  no,  me  frind,  his  feet  nuver  get  cowld  in  th'  cowldest 
days  av  winther.  An'  fur  fwhy?  Bekase,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  he  knows  how  to  keep  thim  warrum.  He  carries  a 
wee  dhrop  av  the  craythure  in  his  pocket  and  fwhinnuver 
he  feels  Jack  Frosht  nibblin'  at  his  feet  he  bobs  down 
behoind  the  dashboard  an'  takes  a  swig,  an'  that  warrums 
him  up  all  over,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"An'  so,  be  the  same  token,  me  frind,  Oi  have  a  little 
patint  of  me  own  fur  givin'  owld  Sol  the'skewgee  an'  keepin' 
meself  as  cool  as  a  refrigerather.  Fwhat  is  it?  Well,  it's 
aisy  tellin,'  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  it's  a  dang  soight  aisier 
doin'  aff  ye  have  the  proice  av  a  pint,  me  frind.  Ye're 
bushted,  eh  ?  Thin  ye'll  have  to  be  satisfied  wid  the  tellin' 
of  it,  fur  Oi'm  bushted  meself  to-day,  an'  Oi  don't  know 
how  Oi'm  goin'  to  howld  out  antil  Toozy  comes  home  from 


42  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

the  box  facthry  an'  Oi  berry  tin  cints  from  her — that's  aff 
she'll  let  me  have  it,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  She's  very  hoigh- 
chooned  an'  elaborit  in  her  doidoes  since  she's  bin  keepin' 
comp'ny  wid  that  Delaneey  Street  jood  av  hers,  an'  she 
dizn't  loike  to  see  a  dhrop  av  mixed  ale  come  into  the  house 
afther  sivin  o'clock  P.  Im,  at  noight,  as  she  sez  wid  her 
Cinthre  Street  Frinch  accint.  But  nuver  moind  about  that, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  fur  Oi  want  to  tell  ye  about  me  sovrin 
rimidy  fur  wardin'  aff  sunsthrick. 

"An'  this  is  the  way  Oi  do  it,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Fwin 
Oi  know  that  the  day  is  goin'  to  be  intherestingly  hot,  Oi 
tell  me  son  Tommy  as  he's  goin'  out  to  play  in  the  mornin' 
to  be  sure  to  be  in  to  see  me  at  laist  uvery  hour  durin'  the 
day,  fur  Oi'll  be  naidin'  a  fresh  pint  at  laist  that  often, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Thin  wid  me  pint  beside  me  on  the 
kitchin  table  an'  me  feet  reshtin'  comfortable  loike  on  wan 
chair  an'  meself  on  another,  an'  a  pam-laif  fan  in  me  hand, 
Oi'll  defoy  wind  ur  weather  ur  the  landlord  ur  anny  other 
owld  thing  to  destr'y  me  paice  av  moind  ur  aise  av  bedy, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Gimme  a  pint  fwhin  an'  fwhere  Oi 
want  it,  me  frind,  an'  nayther  Greenland's  oicy  mountings 
nor  Alashky's  coral  shtrands  has  the  power  to  do  me  anny 
harrum,  me  frind. 

"The  thrubble  wid  mosht  av  the  payple  that  gets  sun- 
Bthruck,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  is  that  they're  botherin'  their 
heads  about  the  bonnits  ur  dollyket  dhresses  they'll  wear  to 
the  comic  opry  nuxt  winther,  ur  the  proices  av  shtocks,  ur 
who'll  be  ther  nuxt  Prisident  av  the  Noo  Noited  Shtates, 
ur  some  other  crazy  nonsinse  av  that  soort;  an'  they  have 
no  contint  av  moind,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Now,  Oi'm 
deffrint,  me  frind.  Me  pint  is  all  Oi'm  axin'  ur  carin'  fur. 
Gimme  that  an'  the  roof  above  me  head  an'  a  good  Soonday 
dinner  av  corn  bafe  an'  cabbidge,  an'  Oi  don't  care  a  bloody 
dang  fwhether  the  sthreets  run  knee-deep  wid  moulderin' 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  43 

lead  ur  crashin'  oicebergs,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oh,  Oi  tell 
you,  me  f  rind,  that  there's  nawthin'  in  this  wurruld  that  kin 
bate  contint  av  moind  an'  a  daycint  pint  av  mixed  ale — av- 
specially  fwhen  the  thrimmomether  is  up  to  his  divilish 
tanthrums,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty!" 


HOW  SHE'D  RUN  A  CABLE  CAR. 

"War  ye  uver  in  love,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?"  the  Widow 
asked. 

"Yurra,  fvvhat  a  nonsinsical  an'  ondaycint  kustion 
fur  ye  to  be  afther  axin,"  said  the  neighbor. 

"Sure  an'  f  what's  nonsinsical  about  it?"  replied  the 
Widow.  "But  thaat's  not  fwhat  Oi  mint  to  ax  ye  annyhow, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  It's  this,  me  frind :  Did  ye  uver  see 
such  gerruls  as  are  goin'  nowadays,  wid  such  hoigh- 
chooned  airs  an'  pittin  on  more  shtoyle  than  a  Dago's 
monkey  wid  a  red  hat  an'  imbridered  jacket  on,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty?  Their  carryins-on  ud  make  the  rackyroinus 
up  in  Cinthril  Parruk  sick,  an'  th'  way  they  howld  up  their 
heads  an'  shniff  at  the  pratinshuns  av  iz  poor  common  folks 
makes  me  often  feel  loike  givin'  thim  a  puck  in  the  sowlar 
plixus  wid  a  clothes  pole.  There's  me  own  daughther 
Toozy,  fur  inshtance.  A  shtuck-upper  hussy  nuver  dhrew 
the  breath  av  loife  here  in  Churry  sthreet.  She  was  dis- 
charruged  from  the  box  facth'ry  th'  other  day  fur  writin' 
powthry  to  her  beau  fwhin  she  shud  have  bin  attindin'  to 
her  worruk,  an'  fwhin  Oi  towld  her  lasht  noight  to  go  up 
to  the  Thurd  Avnoo  road  an'  ax  fur  a  job  as  conducthor 
she  lukt  at  me  as  aff  Oi  was  a  rotten  apple  and  towlt  me 
to  go  take  a  runnin'  joomp  an'  chase  meself.  Th'  oidaya  av 
her  talkin  in  that  toon  av  vice  to  me,  her  only  mother, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty !  'Never  moind,  me  gay  gerrul/  sez  Oi, 


44  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

'but  Oi'll  chase  meself  suner  than'll  soot  ye  ur  yer  Delancey 
shtreet  jood,  fur  the  nixt  toime  he  shows  his  nose  in  this 
dure  Oi'll  chase  him  all  the  way  up  to  Harlem  wid  a  kittle 
av  hot  wather.'  An'  so  help  me  Fin  McCool  aff  Oi  don't, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"But  fur  fwhy  shud  ye  ax  her  to  be  a  conducthor  an  the 
cars,  Mrs.  Magoogin?"  the  neighbor  inquired. 

"An'  fur  fwhy  not,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?"  the  Widow  re 
torted.  "Sure  an'  aren't  gerruls  worrukin  as  conducthors 
out  in  Oheeo,  airnin'  their  noice  little  foor  dollars  a  wake 
and  makin'  a  great  dale  betther  conducthors  nor  the  min 
iz?  To  be  coorse  there's  none  av  thim  here,  but  there's 
nawthin'  loike  larnin',  as  my  boy  Tammy  that  won't  go  to 
school  sez,  an'  it  ud  be  a  dang  good  thing  aff  there  war  some 
av  thim  an  the  Thurd  Avnoo  cable  car'rs,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty.  Aff  me  daughter  Toozy  had  anny  spoonk  ur  sinse 
she'd  throw  over  her  socoiety  manners  an'  throyin'  to  break 
into  the  Foor  Hundhert  and  be  the  fusht  gcrrul  in  Noo 
Yorruk  to  conduct  a  sthreet  car-r.  It  ud  be  the  makins  av 
her,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  talk  about  refarms,  me  frind, 
Docthor  Packhearse  an'  Teddy  Roosevelt  an'  Captin  Chap 
man  wud  the  fwhiskers  wudn't  be  in  id  wid  her,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty.  But  no,  she  cocks  her  fate  an  the  shtove  wid  a 
buke  av  Tom  Moore's  powthry  in  her  hand  an  tells  her 
koind  an  daycint  an  harrud-wurrukin'  mother  to  go  chase 
herself.  Nuver  mind,  though,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty;  mebbe 
Oi'll  go  an'  be  a  conducthor  mesilf,  an'  aff  Oi  do  woe  be 
to  the  Dalancey  street  joods  an'  the  purfeshnil  byooties 
that  roids  in  my  car-r.  Oi'll  make  the  joods  give  up  their 
sates  to  the  washerwimmin  an'  Oi'll  pit  the  purfeshnil 
byooties  an  the  front  platfawrm  fwhere  they'll  get  sand  in 
their  oyes  an'  the  wind'll  peel  the  paint  aff  their  chakes. 
An'  Oi'll  let  no  man  shtand  an  the  back  platfawrm  an 
blyow  shmoke  into  the  ladies'  faces  unless  it  is  a  poor  man 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  45 

goin'  home  from  worruk  shmokin  his  dudheen,  an'  not  an 
ingin.  An'  Oi'll  tell  ye  roight  now,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  no 
faymale  passinger  had  betther  pit  an  airs  wud  me  ur  thry 
to  talk  boick  to  me  in  haughty  accints  through  her  nose. 
Aff  she  diz  she'll  get  the  worst  av  it,  me  frind,  fur  Oi'll 
be  lukin'  the  other  way  fwhin  she  wants  to  get  aff  an'  Oi'll 
carry  her  tin  blocks  beyant  her  cawrner,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty." 


THE  FIN  DE  SIECLE  IRISH  WAKE. 

"Af  uver  Oi  was  t'undhersthruck  in  all  me  loife  it  was 
lasht  noight,"  said  the  Widow,  raising  her  hands  and 
lowering  them  in  a  manner  expressive  of  her  aversion 
to  going  through  the  same  experience  again. 

"Fwhot  struck  ye  ?"  asked  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"Well,  me  frind,  fwhin  ye  hear  it,"  said  Mrs.  Magoo- 
gin,  "'ye'll  be  t'undhersthruck  yerself,  fur  av  all  the  quare 
savin's  an'  doin's  that  have  come  to  me  andhersthandin* 
since  me  godmother  held  me  in  her  arms,  God  bless  her, 
an'  the  holy  wather  was  fusht  poored  upan  me  timples, 
there's  nawthin'  quarer  or  sthranger  than  this,  an'  ye'll 
say  so  yerself  fwhin  ye  hear,  so  ye  will,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
Oi  was  over  at  Shanty  Maguoire's  wake  last  noight — heaven 
bliss  the  poor  owld  man  fwheruver  his  sowl  is  to-day — an* 
do  yez  know  it  luked  no  more  loike  a  wake  to  me  than 
my  owld  goat  beyant  there  luks  loike  your  Jurry.  It  was 
so  quoiet  an'  aisy  an'  over-dacint  soort  av,  that  the  Lord 
forgive  me,  but  Oi  thought  for  a  fwhoile  it  was  a  grave- 
robbin'  inthertainmint  we  war  at.  The  candles  war  burn- 
in*  at  Shanty's  head,  an'  there  was  fwhoite  cloths  an'  the 
peekthurs  an'  a  table  wud  a  fwhoite  cloth  an  it,  belyow 
the  coffin,  but  divil  a  poipe  or  bit  av  tobacky,  or  pinch  av 


46  WIDOW  MAGOOGIN. 

shnuff  wag  to  be  had  annyfwhere,  an'  fwhat's  worse,  sorra 
the  dhrop  to  dhrink  passed  annybody's  lips  durin'  the  whole 
noight. 

"Well,  that's  not  all.  The  worse  is  to  come,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty.  Sure  an'  about  noine  o'clock  didn't  Mrs.  Mol- 
loy  that's  known  the  Maguoires  fur  thurty-wan  years  walk 
in,  an'  fwhin  Mrs.  Maguoire  see  her  an'  she  see  Mrs. 
Maguoire,  didn't  the  two  av  thim  fall  in  aich  ither's 
arms,  an'  in  a  twinklin'  afore  a  sowl  knowed  fwhat  was 
goin'  on,  didn't  Mrs.  Moll'y  sthart  up  cryin'  the  keen, 
'Och,  ho !  ho !  ho !  Shanty  Maguoire !  fwhy  did  yez  doy ! 
fwhy  did  yez  doy?'  She  was  goin'  an,  fwhin,  wan,  two, 
three,  loike  a  sthraik  av  grazed  loightnin'  in  rished  wan 
av  Shanty's  daughters,  an'  takin'  Mrs.  Moll'y  be  the  shoul 
der  sez  to  her,  sez  she,  wud  her  nose  cocked  in  the  air, 
an'  a  v'ice  an  her  loike  a  shky  tarrier  fwhin  he's  barkin' 
fram  a  foorth  sthory  windy,  'Say,  Mrs.  Moll'y,'  sez  she, 
'we  don't  want  no  Oirish  cry  here/  sez  she,  'so  plaize  howld 
yer  gob.' 

"Ow,  wow!  but  wasn't  Mrs.  Moll'y  mad!  She  red 
dened  up  as  red  as  my  hair,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  and  she 
shtopped  the  keenin'  there  an'  thin.  She  sed  nawthin' 
an  account  av  the  man  that  was  lyin'  dead  afore  thim, 
but  she  gev  Miss  Maguoire  a  luk  that  wint  through  an' 
through  her,  an'  fwhat  she's  sayin'  about  her  this  mawrnin' 
is  annything  but  gud  or  koind.  Uvrybody  prisint  felt 
sorry  an'  insulted,  an'  who'd  blame  thim?  Did  yez  uver 
hear  the  loike,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  The  little  shnip! 
She  didn't  want  the  Oirish  cry,  an'  Mrs.  Moll'y's  the 
foinest  keener  that's  to  be  had  in  this  part  av  the  coun- 
thry! 

"Musha,  bad  look  to  thim,  an'  my  mainest  curse  an 
their  manners;  but  fwhat  is  the  wurruld  comin'  to,  any 
way?  It's  a  sin  to  be  Oirish  an'  a  croime  to  confess  it. 


WIDOW  MAGOOGIN.  47 

Be  heavens,  they're  taking  away  our  wakes  fram  iz  aiven, 
an'  soon  we'll  have  nawthin'  left.  Fwhat  they  diz  do 
now,  the  little  shrimpeens  av  gerls  that  arranges  our  wakes 
nowadays,  but  give  out  cigars,  inshtead  av  the  gud  ould 
clay  poipes  an'  tobacky,  an'  in  place  of  sindin'  round  de 
decanther  wud  a  little  av  the  rale  shtuff  in  it  or  some 
poort  woine,  or  mebbe  a  glass  av  beer,  fwhat  diz  they 
have  but  a  supper  shpread  in  the  kitchen  at  twelve  o'clock, 
wud  cowld  ham  an'  bread  an'  butther  an*  coffee  an'  tay 
or  hot  lirnonade,  bad  scran  to  it,  for  some  av  it  nairly 
sthrangled  ma  lasht  noight !  They  won't  let  iz  ould  folks 
have  no  more  foon,  an'  aff  anybody  dar's  to  roise  the  Oirish 
cry  they  quickly  get  the  same  thraitment  that  Mrs.  Molloy 
got. 

"Wurra!  wurra !  wurra!  but  fwhat  quare  ways  there 
are  in  this  wurruld !  But  as  fur  the  wakes  they  diz  have, 
they're  nawthin'  compared  to  the  wakes  we  used  to  have 
afore  tobacy-shti  miners  and  dhry  goods  clarks  got  too 
hoigh-chooned  to  be  Oirish.  Thim  are  the  toimes  that 
wakes  was  wakes,  an'  Oi  remimber  wan  fwhin  Oi  fusht  kem 
to  this  counthry  fwhere  the  whole  crowd  got  foightin', 
an'  wan  man  bit  another's  nose  aff.  Ah,  but  there  are 
no  more  wakes  loike  thim.  Sure  and  wid  the  wakes  they 
diz  have  now,  divil  a  wan  aff  the  corpse  kin  till  fwhether 
he's  dead  or  no,  or  fwhat's  thranspoirin'  around  him,  an* 
they  moight  as  well  shtick  a  wisp  av  sthraw  in  an  owld 
dhrygoods  box  an'  give  a  tay  party  over  it  fur  all  the 
'good  their  new-fangled  way  av  wakin'  thim  diz  the  dead. 
Isn't  that  so,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 

"Troth  an'  f aix  'n  you're  roight  it  is,  alanna !" 


48  WIDOW  MAGOOGIN. 


AN  IRISHMAN  DISCOVEEED  AMERICA. 

"Fwhat  do  ye  think  av  Christopher  Colnmbius,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty  r" 

"Ho  musht  be  a  great  man,  Mrs.  Magoogin;  they've 
been  making  such  a  hullaballo  about  him." 

"Sure  an'  he's  dead,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Is  that  so,  now,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"Yis,  an'  he's  dead  a  long  toime,  me  frind,"  said  the 
Widow.  "Sure  an'  he's  the  man  who  dishcovert  this  coun- 
thry.  He  was  shipwrackt,  ur  sumthin',  an'  he  wint 
ashore  an'  saw  the  Injuns  shootin'  buffalo  an'  killin' 
fwhoite  payple,  an'  fwhat  did  he  do  but  go  back  to  Shpain 
an'  tell  the  King  an'  Queen  about  id,  an'  they  made  him 
a  Count,  and  gev  him  a  cashtle,  an'  uver  afther  that  he 
wint  through  loife  injyin'  himself  loike  a  foine  laddy- 
buck,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Me  b'y  Tammy  sez  Columbius 
is  a  great  big  fake.  He  sez  that  the  counthry  was  here 
all  the  toime  an'  anny  wan  wud  half  an  eye  in  his  head 
kud  see  id  afore  he'd  get  widin  tin  moile  av  the  Sandy 
Huke  loight.  Oi  come  purty  near  thinkin'  so  mesilf,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty.  Upon  me  wurrud,  Oi'd  not  be  very  long 
floatin'  about  in  the  say  off  av  Foire  Oisland  afore  Oi'd 
raich  out  fur  a  loife  presurver  an'  shwim  ashore. 

"But  the  Oytalyans,  bad  rattle  their  garlicky  breaths, 
think  he  did  somethin'  great,  an'  begorra  they  wor  singin' 
'Vivi  Macaroni'  from  mornin'  till  noight  all  av  lasht  week. 
Thim  that  wurruks  in  the  gas-house  got  that  shtuck  up, 
Pat  Linnin  tells  me,  that  the  gang  had  to  dale  thim  a 
clout  afore  the  12th  av  the  moonth  to  take  the  starch  out 
av  thim.  Me  daughter  Toozy  soides  wud  the  Oytalyans, 
d'ye  moind,  an'  is  wroitin'  a  piece  av  poethry  to  be  read  at 


WIDOW  MAGOOGIN.  49 

Shecawgo  fwhin  the  big  Fair  opens  there.  Oi  towlt  her 
Oi  thought  she  ought  to  be  in  betther  business  than  wroitin* 
songs  about  paynut  peddlers  an'  organ  groinders,  an'  that 
id  was  a  very  poor  return  fur  the  koindness  that  Shecaw- 
go's  done  her  fwhin  id  gev  her  a  divorsht  from  Ditch  Hen 
nery  to  be  peltin'  id  wud  poethry  about  th'  durty  Oytal- 
yans.  An'  aren't  Oi  roight,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  But 
fwhishper,  woman,  d'ye  know  that  Oi'm  av  the  same  moind 
as  the  man  that  wrote  to  wan  av  the  papers  lasht  waik. 
Oi  think  id  was  an  Oirishman  that  dishcovered  Ameriky. 
And  d'ye  know  fwhy,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  Bekase  the 
bukes  sez  so. 

"Id  was  St.  Brindin  or  St.  Pathrick,  Oi  don't  know  ex 
actly  fwhich  now,  that  fusht  sot  fut  on  the  shores  av  this 
counthry,  an'  th'  mane  owld  Oytalyans  shnaiked  in  afther- 
wards  an'  shtole  his  thunder.  Sure  an'  who  in  the  divil 
uver  hurd  av  Columbius  antil  a  few  weeks  ago,  fwhin  they 
began  to  get  up  the  celebration  in  his  hanner,  an'  Oi  shup- 
pose  they're  doin'  id  to  make  up  fur  th'  Oytalyans  that 
was  lynched  down  in  New  Orleans,  an'  that  th'  King  av 
Italy  med  such  a  ruction  about.  Fwhereas  St.  Pathrick — 
bliss  an'  praise  his  mim'ry! — we've  hurd  av  him  all  th' 
coime,  an'  we  had  parades  in  hanner  av  him.  Many's  the 
year  he  was  the  cock  of  the  walk  in  the  Noo  Noited  Shtates 
afore  Columbius  an'  his  yally  flags  was  uver  dhrempt  av, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi'm  an  the  soide  av  St.  Pathrick 
annyhow,  in  this  kustion,  me  frind.  AfE  he  didn't  dish- 
cover  Ameriky  he  kud  have  done  id,  an'  aff  he  had  a  done 
id  h^.'d  done  id  a  danged  soight  betther  than  Columbiusj 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 


JO  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 


GUM  CHEWING  AND  SLANG. 

Mrs.  McGlaggerty  and  the  Irish  Widow  sat  on  the  front 
stoop  of  the  latter's  house  the  other  night,  and  watched 
Mrs.  Magoogin's  billy-goat  trying  to  eat  the  leg  off  an  old 
iron  pot  that  was  leaning  against  the  hydrant. 

"Do  ye  know,  me  frind,"  said  Mrs.  Magoogin,  "that  it's 
a  great  wandher  to  me  fwhat  makes  all  the  gerruls  be  chew- 
in' gum?" 

"They  all  do  it,"  said  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"Faix'd  they  do,"  responded  the  Widow,  "an'  it's  not 
the  gerruls  alone,  but  the  min  that  does  be  afther  chewin' 
the  durty  shtuff  from  mawrnin'  till  noight,  like  cows 
chawin'  their  cuds.  Arrah  musha  my,  but  sthrange  things 
is  comin'  to  pass  fwhin  min  an'  wimmin  that  you'd  think 
'ould  have  betther  sinse  keep  their  jaws  goin'  foruver  as 
hard  as  aff  they  wor  gittin'  a  dollar  an'  a  quarther  a  day 
fur  their  thrubble.  Sure  an'  do  ye  know,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  that  my  son  Tommy,  as  ye  calls  the  toof,  towld  me 
that  chewin'  gum  is  med  out  av  naygurs'  heels  an'  grass- 
happers'  wings.  Jisht  do  ye  think  av  it,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  fwhoite  min  an'  fwhoite  wimmin  fillin'  their  clane 
mouths  wid  naygurs'  heels  an'  grasshappers.  Be  all  that's 
howly,  aff  Oi  was  a  moskeety  shtarvin'  to  death  on  the 
plains,  an'  had  nawthin'  to  nibble  on  but  a  naygur's  heel, 
Oi'd  lave  it  alone. 

"Fwhin  Oi  tell  Arethoosy  fwhat  her  chewin'  gum  is 
med  out  aff  she  laughs  in  me  face  an'  sez  Oi'm  aff  me 
chimp.  Aff  me  chimp,  indade !  Faix  an'  Oi'll  show  her 
wan  av  these  foine  days  that  it's  aff  her  feet  an'  shtandin' 
an  her  head  fche'll  be  in  the  alley  beyant  aff  she  tries  any 
too  much  shlang  an  wid  me.  Oi'm  an  ould  woman,  Mrs. 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  51 

McGlaggerty — that  is,  I'm  oulder  than  Oi  was  afwhoile 
back — an'  be  me  hopes  av  heaven — an'  Oi'd  not  part  wid 
thim  for  a  grate  dale,  me  frind — Oi  nuver  hurd  sich  talk  or 
saw  sich  soights  as  there  is  in  socoiety  now-a-days.  Wid 
their  gum  chcwin'  an'  their  shlang  shlingin'  it's  hard  tellin' 
f whither  a  Cherry  shtreet  belle  or  an  Avenue  A  jood  is 
man,  woman  or  monkey.  Divil  resaive  the  bit  av  lie  Oi'm 
tellin'  ye,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Bad  dang  thim !  they  makes 
gud  honist  payple  mad  to  be  lookin'  at  thim.  For  my  part, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Oi'm  afther  thinkin'  that  in  a  few  years 
it's  not  min  i.n'  wimmin  that  we'll  be  afther  having  in  this 
wurld,  but  doime  mewseeum  curassities." 


THE  NEW  SONGS. 

"Hi  there,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 
"Fwhat  the  divil  is  id  now,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 
"Come  over  here.     Oi  want  to  shpake  a  wurrud  to  ye." 
"Very  well.,  ma'am,  here  Oi  am.     Shpit  id  out." 
"Ye've  hurc!  th'  noo  songs  that's  out,  Oi  shuppose,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty  r" 

"How  kud  Oi  help  hearin'  thim,  Mrs.  Magoogin,  wid 
your  daughther  Toozy  singin'  coon  songs,  an'  'Two  Little 
Gerruls  in  Biyue,'  an'  ' Annie  Eooney,'  an'  'Down  Wint  Mc- 
Ginty'  from  mawrnin'  antil  noight?" 
.  "Yis,  bad  sesht  to  her,"  said  the  Widow,  vehemently, 
"she's  always  liftin'  that  chewin'  gum  v'ice  av  hers  in  some 
av  thim  sinseless  songs.  Oh,  my !  but  they're  nawthin'  at 
all  compared  wid  th'  lovely  songs  they  ushed  to  sing  fwhin 
you  an'  Oi  war  gerruls,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  There  was 
'Th'  Fwhoite  Cockade,'  an'  'Th  Campbells  Ar'  Comin', 
Hurroo,  Hurraw !'  an'  'A  Sailor  Coorted  a  Farmer's 
Daughter,'  an'  a  thousan'  an'  wan  other  byootiful  things 


52  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

too  numerosity  to  mintion,  me  frind.  Oh!  but  thim  war 
potes  that  wrote  thim  songs  in  those  days,  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty — Thomas  Myoore  an'  Clarence  Mangan  an'  Micky 
Davitt  an'  Owin  Eoe  O'Naill.  Ton  me  wurrud,  it  breaks 
my  h'art  to  think  fwhat  we  have  come  to.  Me  daughther 
Toozy  jisht  dhrove  me  out  av  th'  house  singin'  a  new  piece 
av  divilthry  about  love  an'  kisses  that  goes  loike  this,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  only  mebbe  a  little  worse : 

Shwate  Katy  Connor 

Oi  dotes  upon  her. 

Oh,  Kate,  Kate, 

As  sure  as  fate 
Yell  have  to  marry  me, 

Ur  Oi'll  take  a  nochin 

To  doive  into  the  oachin 
An'  mash  wan  av  the  murmaids  at  the  bottom  av  th'  say !' 

"Now,  fwhat  dang  nonsinse  that  is,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
'Annie  Eooney'  was  bad  enoof  wud  ids  beaus  an'  ids  Joes, 
ids  Annies  an'  ids  tooty-frooty  mushiniss,  but  here's  a 
dang  fool  av  a  ninnyhammer  that  wants  to  dhrown  himsel' 
on  account  av  a  red-headed  piece  called  Katy  O'Connor,  an' 
Oi'll  howld  anny  wan  tin  cints  she  doesn't  care  fwhether 
he's  an  this  himisphare  ur  not,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  An* 
Oi'll  bet  she's  no  betther  nor  anybody  else  an'  her  havin' 
songs  wrote  about  her  an'  sung  upon  th'  shtage.  Nobody 
uver  wrote  a  song  about  me,  an'  fwhin  Oi  was  a  shlip  av 
a  gerrul,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  there  isn't  a  Katy  Connor  in 
all  Noo  Yarrick  nur  in  th'  Fust  Ward  aither  that  kud 
howld  a  candle  to  me  in  th'  way  av  bein'  gud-lookin'  an* 
atthractive,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  God  forgive  me,  me  frind, 
fur  sayin'  so,  but  thim  'Annie  Rooney'  an'  'Katy  O'Connor' 
Bongs  makes  me  sick.  They  makes  my  b'y  Tammy  very 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  53 

toired,  too.  Upon  me  sowl  Oi'm  goin'  to  put  up  a  sign 
sayin'  that  annybody  that  sings  thim  koind  av  songs  in 
my  house  anny  more  diz  so  on  their  own  responsibility,  an' 
Oi'll  not  answer  fur  th'  consekinces  aff  somebody  shcalds 
thim.  Throth  'n  Oi'll  keep  the  bilin'  hot  wather  handy 
mesel',  so  Oi  will.  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  They  kin  sing  'Th' 
Harp  That  Wanst  Through  Tarry  Halls'  ur  <Th'  Exoile  av 
Airyin'  all  they  plaises,  but  thim  rattle-brain  rhoymes  about 
'Annie  Rooney'  an'  'Katy  O'Connor/  nuver — no  ma'am, 
nuver!  Oi'll  have  thim  andhersthand  id  that  way,  too! 
D'ye  moind,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ? 

"An'  talkin'  about  singin',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  mebbe 
ye  don't  know  that  Oi  had  a  v'ice  meself  wanst,  me  frind, 
an'  that  Oi  kud  put  more  h'art  into  'Roise  Up,  Willie 
Reilly'  an'  'Green  Grows  the  Rushes,  0 !'  than  any  gerrul 
that  uver  opin'd  her  shnout  in  th'  County  Roscommon, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty!  Did  ye  uver  hear  thim  singsthers  in 
th'  Cathaydral  up  abow?  No?  Well,  the  besht  av  thim 
ar'  tin  fwhishtles  compared  to  fwhat  Berdie  Magoogin 
ushed  to  be.  Me  father  had  an  uncle  that  ushed  to  come 
twinty-noine  moile  twoict  a  year  to  hear  me  sing  about  th' 
sailor  that  coorted  th'  farmer's  daughter,  an'  manny's  the 
sixpince  he  gev  me  fur  doin'  id,  too,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty! 
Uv'rybody  said  they  thought  Oi'd  go  on  the  shtage  loik 
Pattie  an'  Maggie  Cloine,  an'  be  a  great  primmer  donny, 
but  th'  divil  had  a  howlt  av  me  shkerts,  nllin'  id  wid  bad 
luck,  an'  inshtead  av  goin'  on  th'  shtage  Oi  kept  aff  id,  an* 
here  Oi  am  to-day,  sthrugglin'  an'  scrapin'  fur  a  livin' 
fwhin  Oi  moight  be  rowlin'  'round  in  me  carridge  atin* 
cake  an'  dhrmkin'  woine  an'  makin'  mashes  loike  Lillian 
Russell  an'  th'  resht  av  thim,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"But  talkin'  about  sangs,  me  frind,  that  'Afther  the 
Ball'  takes  the  cake.  Be  gorry  id's  th'  worsht  Oi  uver 
herd.  As  my  b'y  Tammy  sez,  id's  a  loo-loo.  D'ye  know 


54  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

id's  nuver  out  av  me  ears?  Mornin',  noon  an'  noight  id's 
goin',  fusht  an  wan  flyure  an'  thin  an  another,  an'  thin  an' 
the  sthreet,  an'  may  th'  oyes  nuver  laive  me  head  aff  the 
Ditch  woman  acrast  the  sthreet  hasn't  taught  her  owld 
parrot  to  sing  id.  The  bands  an'  th'  hand  organs  have  id 
an'  th'  fwhistlin'  coon  isn't  a  sarcumsthance  alongsoid  av 
id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Sometoimes  Oi  think  it'll  dhrive 
iz  all  to  dhrink,  me  frind.  Me  daughther  Toozy  sings  id, 
too,  an'  she's  taichin'  id  to  th'  baby  that's  only  two  years 
old,  d'ye  moind.  Be  gorry,  Billy  the  goat  '11  be  bahahain' 
id  next,  but  God  help  his  long  green  an'  yally  fwhishkers 
aff  he  diz,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi  say  all  koinds  av  mane 
things  to  Toozy,  but  she  won't  give  up  th'  sang;  so  Oi've 
hot  an  another  expairimint,  me  frind.  Oi  have  a  sang  av 
me  own  makin'  up  that  Oi  sing  uvry  toime  Tammy  or 
Toozy  shtarts  in  to  sing  'Afther  th'  Ball.'  It's  this.  Lish- 
ten  to  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty : 

"After  th'  ball  is  andher 

Tommy  McGinness's  vesht, 
Divil  a  hair  need  anny  wan  care 

For  Tommy  '11  do  th'  resht, 
Many  a  ball  '11  go  afther  the  first, 

Oh,  kud  ye  but  count  thim  all, 
Thin  ye'd  a  know'd  how  he  got  his  load 

Afther  th'  ball ! 

"There,  now,  how  is  that,  me  frind  ?  Tom  Moore  nuver 
wrote  anythin'  loike  that.  They'll  be  singin'  ud  in  Tony 
Pashtor's  nixt  wake.  Don't  ye  think  id's  as  gud  as  th' 
rale  'Afther  th'  Ball,'  or  is  id  betther?  Be  gorry,  aff  id 
war  as  bad  Oi'd  go  out  an  th'  Bow'ry  an'  throw  bokays  at 
meself,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 


ARETHUSA  AND  HER  BEAU, 


ARETHUSA  AND  HER  BEAU. 


HER  DAUGHTER'S  PRIDE. 

Mrs.  McGlaggerty  was  having  her  shanty  whitewashed. 

"Fwhat  are  ye  doin'?"  asked  Mrs.  Magoogin  of  her 
neighbor,  as  the  two  stood  in  the  back  yard  regarding  the 
elderly  darkey  who  was  doing  the  calcimining. 

"Paintin'  the  house,"  answered  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"So  Oi  see/'  the  Irish  Widow  retorted.  "Paintin'  it  wid 
fwhoitewash,  an'  id's  very  byootiful  ye'll  be  afther  makin* 
id,  too,  judgin'  be  fwhat  Oi  kin  see  av  fwhat's  already  done. 
Let  me  ax  ye,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  are  ye  goin'  to  put  anny 
dado  or  freshco  or  fido  on  it,  to  set  aff  the  resht  av  the 
bizniss?  No?  Faix  'n  Oi'm  glad  av  that.  Ye'll  have  it 
plain  fwhoite  an'  nothin'  else?  No  yallow,  sugar-cured- 
ham  thrimmin's  or  doime  novel  nonsinse  about  it,  but 
plain,  pure,  unadultherated  fwhoite?  That  plaises  me, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  do  ye  know  fwhy?  Bekase  the 
minnit  me  daughter  Arethoosy  kums  home  here  an'  sees  the 
new  paint  on  yer  house  she'll  ate  the  hands  an'  head  aff  av 
me  antil  Oi  consint  to  have  our  little  place  thraited  to  a  coat 
av  the  same  color,  so  the  plainer  you  make  yours,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,  the  chaiper  the  expinse  '11  be  on  me. 

"Oh,  but  it's  a  terrible  thing  to  have  a  daughter  growin* 
up  in  a  noice,  quoiet,  dacint  neighborhud  coortin'  a  little, 
bandy-legged  Dootch  grocery  clerk  wid  notions  as  hoigh- 

'573 


58  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

chimed  as  a  mellionaire's,  an'  britches  as  toight  an'  short- 
waishted  as  a  jood !  There's  nawthin'  ye  kin  do  that's  gud 
enough,  an'  there's  nawthin'  goin'  an  in  s'ciety  but  ye 
musht  have.  For  an  anosthinthatious  widdy  loike  meself 
that  has  nawthin'  but  her  good  name  an'  a  few  palthry  dol 
lars  shtandin'  bechune  hersilf  an'  heaven,  it's  enough  to 
dhroive  me  crazy.  Uv'ry  toime  Hinry  comes  to  the  house 
— Hinry  is  the  little  cross-eyed  Dootchma»'s  name — there's 
some  new  doido  to  inthertain  him  wid.  Do  you  know,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  that  Oi'm  foriver  makin'  tay  an'  bakin'  bish- 
kits  fur  that  hungry-faced  divil.  Be  heavens,  Oi'm  comin' 
to  belayve  that  he  doesn't  get  a  boite  to  ate  at  home  at  all, 
he's  so  starved  and  pinched  lukin',  the  poor  crayther. 

"But  no  matther,  bechune  him  an'  Arethoosy  Oi'm  kept 
in  hot  wather,  an'  now  fwhin  she  kums  home  she'll  be 
afther  raisin'  the  very  divil  on  account  av  yer  house  havin' 
the  fwhoitewash  an  it.  Oi'll  have  to  go  out  to-morry  an' 
get  some  wan  to  fwhoitewash  my  place,  so  that  Hinry's 
h'art  won't  bo  broke  an'  Arethoosy's  sowl  racked  be  seein' 
your  risidince  risin'  be  the  soide  av  ours  loike  a  ghost  in  a 
coalyard  or  a  marble  tombstone  in  a  blackberry  patch. 
Ain't  it  froightful,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  Oi  wish  to  heaven 
that  Arethoosy  was  marri'd  an'  her  husband  in  jail  the 
way  both  av  ihim  'ould  be  out  av  my  soight,  an'  the  worsht 
av  it  all  is,  me  frind,  that  no  sooner  '11  Oi  have  the  walls 
painted  as  fwhoite  as  the  dhriven  shnow  but  my  son 
Tammy,  thai  ye  all  calls  the  Toof  to,  '11  begin  playin'  hand 
ball  agin  it  rn'  speckle  it  all  over  wid  black  blotches  antil 
it  luks  loike  a  clown  with  the  shmall  pox." 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  59 


JONQUILS  FOR  THE  TABLE. 

"Do  ye  see  thim,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?"  said  the  Widow 
Magoogin,  showing  a  bunch  of  jonquils  in  her  hand  as 
she  gracefully  balanced  herself  upon  the  fence. 

"Do  ye  see  thim?"  she  said  again. 

"Oi  do/'  answered  the  neighbor. 

"Av  coorse  ye  do/'  said  Mrs.  Magoogin.  "Sure  an* 
wudn't  a  bloind  man  see  thim  aff  he  had  the  use  av  his 
eyes.  Oi  know  ye  sees  thim,  but  do  yez  know  fwhat  they 
are?" 

"They're  flowers,"  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  responded. 

"To  be  coorse  they're  filyowers,"  said  the  Widow,  half 
disgusted  with  her  neighbor's  obtuseness.  "Anybody  'ould 
see  they  war  filyowers,  but  fwhat  koind  of  filyowers  ?" 

"Divil  a  wan  o'  me  knows  or  cares,  aither,"  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty  replied. 

"Oi  thawt  ye  didn't  know,"  the  Widow  went  on.  "It 
'ould  take  a  shmarter  woman  nor  you  or  me,  aither,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  to  know  fwhat  they  are,  an'  fwhin  we  did 
know  the  divil  a  bit  betther  aff  we'd  be.  But  lavin'  the 
kustion  av  tho  charackther  av  the  filyowers  aside,  me  frind, 
Oi'll  hold  ye  the  price  av  a  can  av  beer  that  ye  can't  guess 
fwhat  they're  for.  Ye  won't?  Well,  ye  moight  as  well 
not,  fur  aif  ye  war  guessin'  from  this  out  until  the  next 
flyud  ye'd  nuver  wanst  hit  the  mark ;  so  Oi'll  shpare  ye  yer 
toime  be  tellin'  ye.  Do  ye  know,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that 
fwhin  Arethoosy  kem  home  a  few  minnits  ago  fram  her 
wurruk  she  handit  me  these  an'  sez  to  me :  'Be  careful  av 
thim,  mother,  fur  Hinry  is  comin'  over  to  supper  to-noight 
an'  Oi  want  to  pit  thim  on  the  table.'  Tit  thim  yally  things 
an  the  table/'  sez  Oi,  'fwhat  for?'  sez  Oi.  'To  awrnamint 


60  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

it/  sez  she.  'An'  fwhat  are  they  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Filyowers/  sez 
she.  'Aye,  bill  fwhat  koind  av  filyowers  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Johnny 
Keels/  sez  she.  'An'  who  is  Johnny  Keels  ?'  sez  Oi,  think- 
in'  mebbe  it  moight  be  a  new  smash  she  had  med  in  the 
tobacky  facchory.  'Oh,  go  an'  throw  mood  at  yourself/ 
sez  she,  gettin'  soort  av  mad.  'Faix  'n  Oi  won't  do  any- 
thin'  av  the  koind/  sez  Oi,  *but  aff  Oi  throw  mood  at 
anny  wan  it'll  be  at  you/  sez  Oi,  'an  don't  you  forget 
that,  me  foine  lassie/  says  Oi.  'Oi'd  loike  to  see  you  thry 
it/  says  she.  'Ye  wud,  wud  ye?'  sez  Oi,  an'  wid  that  Oi 
hot  her  a  blyow  av  the  fryin'  pan  an'  the  forrud  that 
kem  near  knockin'  her  into  th'  middle  av  next  week. 

"She  shnilfed  an'  cried  a  gud  bit  afther  that,  an'  it 
was  some  toime  afore  Oi  kud  ax  her  anny  more  about 
Johnny  Keels.  Then  she  tould  me  that  Johnny  Keels  was 
Frinch,  an'  that  it  was  the  name  av  the  filyowers,  an'  it 
was  the  latest  fashion  in  s'coiety  to  pit  them  an  the  table 
fur  awrnamint,  so  she  brawt  thim  home  from  the  markit 
as  she  was  passin'.  'Well,  Arethoosy/  sez  Oi,  'it's  a  foine 
fool  you  do  be  makin'  av  yerself/  sez  Oi,  'bringin'  home 
ev'ry  nonsinsical  thing  that  s'coiety  is  ayjiots  enough  to 
rin  afther/  sez  Oi.  'Sure,  an'  phwat  gud  are  filyowers  an 
a  table  ?'  sez  Oi ;  'ye  can't  ate  thim/  sez  Oi ;  'an  it  won't 
fill  yer  belly  anny  fuller  to  luk  at  thim/  sez  Oi,  'fwhoile 
the  shmell  av  thim/  sez  Oi,  'reminds  me  av  fat  naygurs 
in  a  crowded  shtreet  car  on  a  hot  day  in  Augusht/  sez 
Oi.  'Oh,  ma,  how  can  you  say  so/  sez  she,  twishtin'  her 
nick  an'  sherewin'  up  her  mouth  loike  she  diz  fwhin  she 
throys  to  pit  on  airs.  'Oi  think  they're  very  freagrant/ 
sez  she.  'So  is  a  goat's  breath/  sez  Oi,  'an'  there  the 
argymint  kem  to  an  ind,  for  no  matter  fwhat  Oi  said 
she  paid  no  attention  to  it.  She  is  gone  to  the  groc'ry 
now  to  buy  some  sugar  cakes  an'  a  bit  av  a  poy  fur  Hinry 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  6l 

fwhin  he  comes  to  supper,  an'  here  are  the  Johnny  Keels 
that'll  be  set  afore  him. 

"Oi've  half  a  notion,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  to  pit  this  at 
wan  ind  av  the  table,  an'  a  boonch  av  inyuns  in  a  glass 
at  the  other  ind.  Hinry  wouldn't  know  the  difference, 
an'  an3  he  did  an'  dar'd  to  open  his  mouth  Oi'd  shcald 
him.  Oi  don't  see  annyhow  fwhat  the  fwhoite-headed  an' 
bow-legged  little  monkey  wants  to  be  havin'  his  shupper 
here  for  fwhin  he  has  his  mother's  boordin'  house  to  ait 
in;  but  God  help  him,  I  guess  it's  little  he  gets  to  ait 
there,  an'  fwhat  there  is  av  it  isn't  much  account.  Well, 
there's  wan  thing  he'll  get  here  that  he  nuver  wud  get  at 
home,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  that's  Johnny  Keels  an  the 
table.  Th'oidaya !  Filyowers  in  a  garden  or  in  a  filyower 
pot  an  the  windy  aren't  good  enough  anny  more  fur  the 
young  shnip^  that  are  growin'  up  nowadays,  but  they 
must  have  rosies  an'  lillies  an'  loilacs  in  their  hair  an'  an 
their  breashts  an'  Johnny  Keels  an  the  table  they  ate  at. 
Bymebye  they'll  be  pittin'  daisies  in  their  oice  craim  an* 
Johnnie- joomp-oops  in  their  garters,  an'  mebbe  it  won't 
be  long  afore  they'll  be  axin'  to  wear  soon-filyowers  in 
their  bushtles  an'  to  have  noight-blyoomin'-soorooses  over 
the  bookies  ay  their  shoes.  There's  no  tellin'  fwhat  quare 
things  shtoyle  may  do,  an',  be  heavens,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
it's  not  at  all  impossible  that  you  an'  me  may  live  to  see 
the  day  fwhin  Johnny  Keels  an'  Jim  Crows  an'  filyowers 
av  thim  koind  may  rin  preyaties  an'  cabbage  aff  av  the 
table  an'  out  av  the  markit  intoirely." 


62  WIDOW  MAGOOGIN. 


ARETHUSA  IS  A  POET 

"Well,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow,  after  hav 
ing  borrowed  a  thimble  from  her  neighbor,  "it's  very  foine 
weather  we're  havin',  ain't  it  now  ?" 

The  neighbor  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

"It's  fwhat  my  daughter  Arethoosy  calls  the  gintle 
zeephyrs  av  spring,"  Mrs.  Magoogin  continued.  "An'  be 
the  same  token  do  ye  know,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that  Are 
thoosy  has  a  new  hobby  horse  av  a  skame  that  she's  thryin' 
to  roide  now?  Yis,  indade,  she  wants  to  be  a  pooet,  so 
she  sez,  an'  wroite  an'  sing  songs  about  all  koinds  av  non- 
sinse  that'll  be  goin'  an.  She  sez  that  uv'ry  springtime 
brings  out  new  pooets  wid  its  flow'rs  an'  cabbages,  an'  that 
this  year  she  feels  th'  inspoiration  takin'  howld  av  her  so 
hard  that  she  can't  resist  the  timptation  to  wroite  poethry 
herself.  I  axed  her  fwhat  was  the  fusht  thing  she'd  wroite 
about,  an'  she  sed  anythin'  that  kem  into  her  head.  'Thin,' 
sez  Oi,  'Areihoosy,  it's  divilish  little  ye'll  wroite  in  the 
way  av  pooethry,'  sez  Oi,  'fur  ye  have  a  shkull  an  ye  that 
an  idaya  couldn't  inter  through  anless  it  had  a  crowbar 
to  foorce  its  way,'  sez  Oi.  Oi  med  her  awful  mad  be  sayin* 
fwhat  Oi  did,  but  Oi  couldn't  help  it,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
an'  thin  we  had  it  up  an'  down  an'  in  an'  out  all  noight 
long.  'Arethoosy,'  sez  Oi,  be  way  av  a  bit  av  advice,  Oi'm 
thinkin'  ye'd  betther  lave  the  pooethry  alone  an'  shtick  to 
yer  wurk  at  the  tobacky  facthory,'  sez  Oi.  'It'll  pay  ye 
betther  in  the  long  run,'  sez  Oi,  'an'  '11  lave  ye  a  dacinter 
an'  betther  reshpectid  gerrul,'  sez  Oi;  but  me  foine  lady 
wudn't  listhen  to  me  anny  longer.  She  got  huffy,  an' 
takin'  out  her  goold  pin  and  goold  bordhered  writin'  paper 
she  began  makin'  finces  across  it  wid  th'  ink  antil  it  luked 


WIDOW  MAGOOGIN  63 

loike  a  purcession  av  shkinned  eels  wrigglin'  through  a 
field  av  shnow. 

"Oi  aftherwards  larnt  that  she  was  writin'  some  verses 
to  her  Hinry,  the  bandy-legged  little  Dootch  beau,  whose 
nick  I  come  near  breakin'  the  noight  they  gev  the  lasht 
party  here,  an'  be  me  faith  Oi'll  break  it  yet  an'  ev'ry  bone 
in  his  body  wid  it,  too,  before  I  get  through  wid  the  tow- 
headed  imp  iiv  the  divil.  Oi  sed  no  more  to  her,  an'  Oi 
suppose  from  this  out  Oi'm  to  have  a  pooet  in  the  family. 
Wan  av  these  days  she'll  be  afther  shtickin'  up  her  nose 
at  the  tobacky  facthory,  an'  come  home  to  her  poor  mother 
to  loaf  around  the  house  an'  help  us  all  to  shtarve.  Oi 
don't  know  very  much  about  pooets,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
but  from  fwhat  little  I've  heard,  Oi  jidge  them  all  to  be  a 
pretty  bad  set.  They  do  nothin'  but  wroite  an'  read  from 
maurnin'  'til  noight,  an'  as  fur  a  lick  av  dacint  wurk,  they 
wudn't  lift  a  finger  or  raise  a  hand  aff  it  was  to  shplit  a 
cord  av  wood  or  carry  in  a  ton  av  coal.  Pooethry  may  be 
all  very  noice  readin'  fwhin  wan  comes  home  from  a  hard 
day's  wurk,  an'  it  may  be  very  foine  to  see  it  in  the  papers 
an'  an  the  tombshtones  in  the  counthry,  but  the  min  an' 
wimmin  that  wroite  it  ought  to  be  ashamed  av  the  manner 
in  fwhich  they  loiter  away  their  toime  fwhin  they  cud  be 
doin'  somethm'  so  much  betther  fur  thimselves  an'  their 
counthry. 

"Oi  meself  loike  a  good  chune  loike  *St  Paathrick's  Day* 
or  the  'Wearin'  av  the  Green,'  but  we  haves  no  more  good 
music  av  that  soort  nowadays,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  we 
nuver  will  have  thim  agin.  Thim  koind  av  pooets  is  dead 
an'  gone  long  ago,  an'  they'll  nuver  make  any  more  av  thim, 
God  bless  thim.  An'  that's  fwhy  Oi'm  forninst  havin'  a 
pooet  in  my  family.  About  Arethoosy  Oi  don't  moind  so 
mooch,  bekase  afther  Oi'm  dead  an'  out  av  the  way  she 
can  get  a  husband  to  take  care  av  her,  but  do  you  know, 


64  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that  av  my  son  Tammy,  the  toof,  was  to 
como  in  an'  tell  his  mother  that  he  was  goin'  to  quit 
foightin'  an'  shtalin'  an'  turn  himself  into  a  pooet,  Oi'd 
dhran  roight  down  on  the  flure  a  corpse.  'Deed  an'  Oi  wud, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  divil  a  wurd  av  a  lie  Oi'm  tellin'  ye 
fwhin  Oi  say  so." 


TOOZY  WANTS  TO  BE  CREMATED. 

"Faix'n  it's  a  quare  tale  I  have  to  tell  ye  this  mawrnin'/' 
said  the  Widow  Magoogin,  after  she  had  "passed  the  time 
of  day"  with  her  friend  and  neighbor. 

"Well,  it  must  be  purty  quare,  Mrs.  Magoogin,"  put  in 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  "fwhin  ye  say  it's  so,  for  it's  manny's 
a  quare  thing  ye  tould  me  that  ye  didn't  seem  to  think  was 
quare  at  all,  at  all." 

"An'  no  more  I  didn't,"  said  the  Widow,  wiping  the 
perspiration  from  her  face  with  the  corner  of  her  apron. 
"Somethin'  has  to  be  very  kewrus  wid  me,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  afore  I  think  it  anny  way  quare,  fur  Oi'm  so  ushed  to 
supproises  an'  foony  ould  gags  frum  my  Tammy,  that  ye 
all  calls  the  toof,  an'  frum  Arethoosy,  me  daughter,  that 
divil  a  bit  excoited  diz  Oi  become  at  all,  no  matter  fwhat 
they  sez  or  Ait,  so  long  as  they  don't  call  aich  other  out  av 
their  name  or  pelt  knoives  or  shtove  leds  across  the  room. 
But  lasht  noight  Arethoosy  gev  me  a  supproise  that  para 
lyzed  me.  She  kem  home  as  usual,  an'  pittin'  down  her 
dinner  bashket  she  sez  to  me:  'Mother/  sez  she,  'Oi've 
got  a  noo  shkull  oidaya.'  'An'  fwhat's  that?'  sez  Oi.  'A 
noo  renkle/  sez  she.  'Is  it  a  shkoitin'  renkle  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Oh, 
cheese  it,  you  choomp,'  sez  she;  'ye  doon't  knoo  enoof  to 
kill  a  floy  fwhin  it  boites  ye,'  sez  she.  'Well,  aff  Oi  don't/ 


WIDOW  MAGOOGIN.  65 

sez  Oi,  haulm'  aff  with  the  scrubbin'  breesh  that  Oi  was 
black'nin'  the  shtove  wid  an'  givin'  her  a  shwoipe  across  the 
forrud,  'aff  Oi  don't/  sez  Oi,  'Oi  know  enoof  to  kill  a  fool 
fwhin  she  thries  to  make  a  moonkey  av  me/ 

"She  sot  down  an'  cried  a  fwhoile.  Her  bladdher  is  very 
near  her  eyes,  Arethoosy's  is.  She  can  make  the  dhrops 
flow  down  her  nose  aisier  than  anny  gurl  Oi  uver  saw,  but 
she  always  come  round  afther  a  little,  an'  thin  she's  all 
roight  agin.  Well,  fwhin  she  got  through  shnifflin'  Oi  axid 
her  fwhat  her  shkulloidaya  was,  an'  she  tould  me  she  wanted 
to  be  cremated — burnt  up  in  a  foire  fwhin  she  was  dead. 
Think  av  it,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Fwhat  wud  the  wurruld 
say  aff  a  foine,  dacint  lady  loike  mesilf  was  to  take  her 
daughter  to  a  brick  kiln  afther  she  was  dead  an'  shtick 
her  corpse  into  the  foire  and  let  it  shtay  till  there  wasn't 
anythin'  left  but  a  handful  av  ashes?  Fwhat  would  the 
wurruld  say  but  that  Oi  wus  as  inhuman  as  a  cannibal,  an* 
hadn't  the  h'art  av  a  grasshapper  insoide  av  me? 

"An*  do  ye  think  Oi'd  do  it,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  Divil 
a  do,  wud  Oi  do  such  a  thing.  Aff  it's  craymation  she 
wants  let  her  wait  till  Oi'm  dead  an'  gone,  an'  thin  she  can 
do  wid  her  cawrpse  fwhativer  she  wants  to,  but  fwhoile 
Oi'm  livin'  she'll  have  to  depind  upon  the  divil  fur  her 
burnin'  afther  she's  dead.  'Fwhat  is  it,  Arethoosy,'  sez 
Oi,  'that  pit  such  a  notion  in  her  head?'  sez  Oi.  'Kate 
Field  sez  it's  the  only  rail  way  to  bury  payple,'  sez  she. 
'An'  who  is  Kate  Field?'  sez  I.  'She's  a  litherary  leady/ 
sez  ^he.  'Oh,  is  that  so?'  sez  Oi.  'Oi  thought  mebbe  she 
was  a  grave  digger's  daughther,  findin'  she  was  talkin* 
about  burym'  payple,'  sez  Oi.  *But  fwhat's  her  raison,'  sez 
Oi,  "fur  wantin'  to  be  craymated?'  sez  Oi.  'So  that  she 
won't  do  annybody  anny  harm  afther  she's  dead,'  sez  Are- 
tboosy.  'Musha  bad  sesht  to  her/  sez  Oi,  *but  it's  a  hoigh 
opinigin  she  haves  av  herself,'  sez  Oi,  'to  be  afeert  that 


66  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

she']]  do  anny  harm  fwhin  she's  dead,'  sez  01;  'sure  fwhat 
harm  can  she  do  ?'  sez  Oi. 

"Thin  she  wint  on  wid  a  big  rigmarole  about  decayin' 
cawrpses  an'  disayse,  until  I  cut  her  short  an'  tould  her  to 
sit  down  to  her  supper  an'  bother  her  head  no  more  about 
craymation,  as  Oi  wouldn't  lishten  to  anny  such  nonsinse, 
an'  no  more  I  wouldn't,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  fur  fwhin 
aither  my  Tammy  or  my  Arethoosy  dies  Oi  want  to  have  a 
noic:  little  fwhoite  he'rse  wid  wreaths  an'  rosies  about  the 
coffin  an'  a  verse  in  the  paper  sayin'  as  how  she's  a  byootiful 
f whoite-winged  angel  fwhether  she  was  or  not ;  an'  so  long 
as  Oi  kin  have  thim  things  the  sorra  bit  I  care  fwhether 
the  divil  has  hoult  av  her  below  or  not,  toastin'  her  on  the 
ind  av  his  big  red-hot  pitchfork.  Oi  don't  want  anny  av 
my  family's  bones  burnt  in  a  bonefoire,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
not  fwhoile  fwhoite  hearses  an'  filyowers  are  th'  shtoyle, 
annyhow." 


ARETHUSA  FIEES  HEE  BEAU. 

"Are  ye  there,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?"  the  Widow  shouted, 
as  she  threw  her  arms  over  the  fence  and  made  a  soft 
cushion  for  her  chin. 

"Oi  am,  ma'am,"  answered  the  neighbor.  "What's  in  th' 
wind  this  mawrnin'?" 

"Divil  a  thing  at  all,"  said  the  Widow,  "anny  more'n 
Arethoosy's  gev  her  fellow  the  shake  an'  says  sorra  Another 
thing  she'll  have  to  dew  wid  the  mane,  sthingy-hearted  little 
bow-legged  an  'cross-eyed  bollawawny  Hinnery  Dinkelspiel 
th'  longes'  day  she  lives  and  braithes,  she  sez,  an'  my  blessin' 
to  her,  fur  a  more  consaited  an'  oogly-mooged  oansha 
nuver  luked  at  himself  in  the  lukin'glass,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  than  that  same  banty-legged  an'  yally-neckt  little 
divil  av  a  Ditchman." 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  67 

"Is  that  so  ?"  the  neighbor  asked,  in  surprise. 

"Sure'n'  ain't  I  tellin'  ye  it's  so?"  said  Mrs.  Magoogin. 
"An'  divil  a  wurd  of  lie  Oi'm  uttherin',  aither,  me  frind, 
fwhin  Oi  bay  it's  meself ' s  not  sorry  that  the  sawed-off  little 
saur-krout  got  the  foire." 

"Th'  fwhat?" 

"Th'  foire — the  jay  bay — the  gran'  bounce.  Fwhy,  wo 
man  aloive,  ye're  gettin'  so  dull  lately  that  yez  don't  seem 
to  undher&tand  annythin'.  My  Tammy,  that  ye  calls  the 
toof  to,  uses  that  wurd  all  the  toime,  an'  it's  as  common  as 
th'  dirt  in  th'  sthreets." 

"Oi  thought,"  said  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  insinuatingly, 
"that  Arethusy  thought  a  grate  dale  o'  Hinry,  and  was,  in 
fact,  infatuettid  wud  him;  an'  as  she's  not  so  vury  young 
a  gerl  no  mo-ar,  I  thought  meaybe  she  wuz  goin'  to  marry 
Hinry,  she  wuz  goin'  wud  him  so  vury  long,  so  she  wuz — 
wuzri't  she,  now,  Mrs.  Magoogin,  eh  ?" 

While  the  neighbor  was  thus  expressing  herself  Mrs. 
Magoogin  straightened  out  her  backbone,  gave  her  nose 
and  chin  a  hoist  in  the  air  and  let  lightning  quietly  play 
from  under  her  eyelids. 

"See  here,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  she  began,  very  sternly, 
"do  you  mane  to  insinewate  that  my  daughter's  so  owld 
an'  oogly  that  she's  depindint  intoirely  on  a  Ditchman  no 
bigger'n  a  leprechaun,  an'  wid  a  face  an  him  that  'ould 
knock  the  legs  fram  andher  a  Frog  Hollow  pig?  You 
musbt  remimber,  me  honey-tongued  frind,  that  fwhin  you 
casht  an  ashpersion  an  my  daughther — an'  aff  I  do  sez  it 
meself,  there's  not  a  foiner  ur  ginteeler  young  leady 
wurkin'  in  the  tobacky  fac'thry  belyow — fwhin  ye  casht 
yer  ashpersions  at  her  ye  casht  thim  an'  meseF — fur  Oi'm 
her  mother — an'  fwhin  ye  say  she's  owld  an'  oogly,  though 
ye  don't  say  it  in  so  manny  wurds,  ye  mane  that  her 
mother's  oulder  an'  ooglier  than  hersel',  an'  that's  sayin* 


68  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  i 

a  grait  dale  more'n  aiven  a  poor  worked-down  an'  worn-out 
but  reshpectabil  an'  dacint  widdy  loike  mesel'  cares  to 
shtan'.  N-ya-a-ah,  but  it's  a  sorro'ful  day  it  'ould  be  to 
the  Magoogins  aff  th'  blessid  Lord  uver  gev  thim  the  red- 
fwhoite  an'  blew  mugs  that  the  McGlaggertys  have,  fur 
there's  never  a  false  face  outside  av  a  doime  musee'm  that's 
wan-half  as  froightful  or  foony  as  thim.  The  gud  Lord 
bethuxt  us  an'  harm,  but  aff  Oi  wur  to  meet  your  Jurry  in 
th'  dark  av  a  shtarmy  noight  Oi'd  lay  down  me  loife  in 
th  'road,  there  an'  then,  fur  Oi'd  think  th'  ould  by's  gran'- 
father  waz  afore  me  in  airnist. 

"Oh,  no,  no,  no !  There's  no  use  in  ye're  talkin',  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  Oi  know  too  well  fwhat  ye  mint  be  the  back 
handed  shlap  ye  offert  mesel'  an'  me  daughter  wid  that 
shmooth  tongue  av  yers.  Oi  andhershtan'  ye  an'  Oi'll  hould 
ye  tin  dollars  it'll  be  manny  an'  manny  a  long  day  afore 
ye  give  us  anither  such  shlap.  Th'  oidaya !  That  my 
daughther  musht  be  beholdin'  to  a  hammer'd-down  little 
wainy-wusht  an'  bologny-sausage-aitin'  shrimp  av  a  Ditch- 
min  that  I  kud  pick  a  jumpin'  Jack  aff  a  Christmas  three 
that  'ould  be  han'somer  an'  purtier  'n  'im.  Mebbe  ye 
don't  know  that  Arethoosy  kud  have  had  an  Eyetalyun 
count  fur  a  husban'  fwhin  she  wazn't  more'n  sivinteen  an' 
that  she  wud  have  had  him,  too,  only  me  own  Dinny — 
the  Lawrd  have  marcy  an  the  gud  man — got  full  wan 
noight  an'  pizen'd  the  count's  monkey  an'  smashed  his  hand 
organ  into  shmithereens.  The  count,  fool  that  he  was,  got 
mad  an'  Dinny  wud  have  shmashed  him  loikewoise  oonly 
he  wint  out  an'  braut  in  a  peeler  an'  had  Dinny  arreshtid ; 
an*  as  he  dar'n't  come  near  th'  house  afther  doin'  that 
same,  the  coortin*  was  bushtid.  Aw,  it's  manny's  th'  foine 
shance  me  daughther  has  had,  but  fur  wan  raison  or 
anither  she  nuver  tuk  howld  av  anny  av  thim.  Sure'n' 
she  was  oonly  foolin'  wid  th'  Ditchman,  bad  sesht  to  him, 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  69 

an'  it's  manny's  th'  can  av  coal  ile  an'  manny's  th'  grand 
shtick  av  foire-wud  th'  same  foolin'  has  cosht  me,  agrah, 
an'  may  th'  divil  pull  th'  gud  av  it  all  out  av  him,  fur  he 
kem  airly  an'  shtaid  late  seven  noights  out  av  th'  six  uv'ry 
waik.  But  he's  gone,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  we'll  say  no 
more  about  the  polthogue.  Arethoosy  war  too  gud  fur  him. 

"Fwhy,  do  ye  know  fwhat  he  diz  at  Christmas  toime 
fwhin  me  daughther  had  a  noice  shear f  an'  a  byootiful  silk 
han'kercher  fur  him — fwhat  diz  the  shtingy  little  craythure 
do  but  sind  Arethoosy  a  tin-cint  box  av  candy  wid  a  post- 
hole  card  full  av  peekthures  av  Santa  Glaus,  fwhin  she  had 
med  up  her  moind  that  he'd  give  her  a  phottygraft  album 
ur  a  tin-dollar  watch  at  laist.  Oh,  but  wasn't  Arethoosy 
mad !  She  was  so  mad  she  kudn't  see  the  candy  or  the  post- 
hole  card  aither.  She  flung  thim  from  her  into  a  cawrner 
an'  sot  down  on  the  flure  an'  croied.  Oi  sez,  'Nuver  moind, 
Alanna,  Oi'll  fix  'im.'  An'  Oi  did.  That  noight  fwhin  he 
called,  Arethoosy  warn't  at  home  to  him,  an'  afther  I 
shlammed  th'  dure  in  his  face  my  Tammy  wint  around  to 
th'  mouth  av  th'  ally  an'  bait  him  so  bad  that  he  didn't 
know  fwhether  it  waz  the  Foorth  av  July  ur  the  twinty- 
foorth  av  December  he  was  celebratin'.  In  the  coorse  av 
th'  baitin'  Ditchy  losht  two  dollars  an'  twinty  cints,  fwhich 
Tammy  aftherwards  found  in  th'  alley  an'  divided  wid 
Arethoosy,  who  be  th'  same  token  gev  Tammy  th'  shcarf 
an'  sed  she'd  kaip  the  han'kercher  fur  a  roller  skoitin'  per- 
fesser  she  was  thryin'  to  make  a  mash  on. 

"An'  that's  how  it  kem  about,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that 
me  daughther  gev  th'  Ditchman  th'  shake;  an'  wud  anny 
woman  ur  gerl  av  shperrit  do  annythin'  else  undher  th' 
serkumshtances  ?  Av  coorse  they  wudn't,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  an'  ye  know  they  wudn't,  fur  ye  war  a  gerl  yersel' 
wanst,  though  it's  so  long  ago  mebbe  it's  not  very  aisy  fur 
ye  to  renumber  it." 


A  SOM-LAW  IN  THE  HOUSE. 


A  SON-IN-LAW  IN  THE  HOUSE. 


AN  ANTE-NUPTIAL  TEAGEDY. 

"Oh,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty !"  shouted  the  Widow  Magoogin,  at  the  top  of 
her  voice,  last  Tuesday  night,  about  supper  time.  "Come 
here,  agrah,  till  Oi  spake  to  ye." 

"What  is  it,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?"  the  neighbor  asked,  coming 
to  her  door.  "Oi  was  jist  gettin'  Jurry's  supper  ready  so's 
to  be  able  to  be  off  to  the  church  to  see  th'  weddin'." 

"Oh,  thin,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  ye'll  see  no  weddin'  this 
blissid  noight,"  said  the  Widow,  "for  it's  a  murdher  we're 
jisht  afther  havin'  insoide  in  the  kitchen  inshtud  av  a 
marryin',  an'  Oi'm  thinkin'  it's  kilt  intoirely  me  poor 
Toozy  is,  an'  her  throwsoo  is  that  sp'ilt  that  the  divil  him- 
sel',  let  alone  little  Ditch  Hinnery,  id  not  care  to  be  seen 
wud  her  at  the  althar.  Who  done  it?  Who  diz  ye  thinks 
done  it  but  that  little  sprig  av  mischief,  my  b'y  Tammy. 
Oh,  it's  well  ye  all  named  him  phwin  yez  called  him  the 
toof,  fur  it's  a  toof  he  is  an'  a  toof  he'll  be  all  the  days  av 
his  loife,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  he'll  be  a  lucky  toof,  too, 
this  terrible  noight  aff  he's  not  hung  for  the  killin'  av  his 
sister.  Did  he  kill  her  ?  No,  but  he  moight  as  well  a  done 
it  as  do  fwhat  he  did.  He's  given  her  a  cut  an  the  forrud 
that  a  bloind  man  kud  see  at  a  half  moile's  dishtance,  an* 

173J 


74  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

fwhat's  worse  than  all  else,  he's  left  her  throwsoo,  or 
weddin'  trowsers,  Oi  calls  'em,  that  worthless  an'  unfit  fur 
wearin'  that  she's  gone  to  bed  sick,  an'  Oi'm  to  sind  Hin- 
nery  an'  the  hackman  home  an'  to  tell  uv'rybody  that  the 
weddin's  poshponed  antil  nuxt  Winsda',  fwhin,  wud  the 
grace  av  God,  we  hope  to  have  uv'rythin'  all  roight  agin. 
How  did  it  happen?  Lish'en,  an'  Oi'll  tell  ye  in  moighty 
few  wnrruds.  Tammy,  ye  know,  was  to  be  wan  av  the 
bridesmaids — no,  no,  fwhat  'm  Oi  talkin'  about  at  all, 
at  all? — Oi'm  that  dazed  an'  bewildhered  that  Oi  don't 
know  fwhether  Oi'm  shtandin'  on  me  head  or  me  heels, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty — well,  anny  way,  Tammy  was  to  shtand 
up  wud  Hinnery,  an'  Toozy  wint  to  a  tailor  an'  hoired  him 
a  shoot  av  clothes,  an'  Oi  washed  him  a  shirt  an'  bought 
him  a  shtandin'  collar,  loike  the  joods  wears,  an'  got  him 
a  fwhoite  nicktoie. 

"Uv'rythin'  seemed  to  be  andhershtud  bechuxt  thim  until 
to-noight,  fwhin,  lo  an'  behold  ye,  Toozy,  who  was  dhressin' 
hersel'  in  the  kitchen,  gev  Tammy  the  coat  an'  vest  av  th' 
shoot  she  borried,  to  pit  an  him.  He  had  an  the  shurt  an* 
pants  an'  collar  an' — to  tell  ye  the  truth,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty — he  was  lukin'  as  purty  as  a  chromeo.  Very  well, 
fwhat  diz  he  do  but  pit  an  the  vesht,  an'  savin'  yer  prisince, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  wasn't  it  wan  av  thim  dollyket  veshts 
cut  away  down  to  here,  d'ye  moind.  Tammy  didn't  want 
to  wear  it  an'  sed  he'd  have  to  toie  his  shirt  down  to  keep 
it  fram  shlippin'  over  the  top  av  the  vesht,  but  Oi  pacifoied 
him  an'  he  kep'  it  an.  Thin  he  throied  an  the  coat.  Meelia 
murther,  but  thin  there  was  th'  foon.  It  was  a  swally-tail 
— a  rale  out-an'out  jood's  coat.  'Do  ye  want  to  make  a 
monkey  av  me  ?'  sez  Tammy.  'It'll  make  a  man  av  ye,'  sez 
Toozy,  who  had  an  her  fwhoite  dhress  an'  was  gettin'  ready 
as  fasht  as  she  kud.  'Oi  won't  wear  it,'  sez  he.  'You 
musht,'  said  she.  'Oi  won't/  sez  he,  an'  wud  that  he  peeled 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  75 

it  aff  an'  pelted  it  over  in  th'  corner.  Toozy  got  mad,  an* 
pickin'  up  th'  pitaty  pounder  sint  it  singin'  agin  the  top  av 
Tammy's  nose.  Ow,  wow!  But  ye  shud  have  seen  thim. 
Tammy  picked  up  a  kippeen  av  wood,  an'  rishin'  at  Toozy 
hit  her  acrass  th'  furrud  an'  down  she  wint  agin  th'  kitchin 
table.  Her  furrud  was  cut  an'  th'  blud  wint  all  over  her 
fwhoite  dhress  an'  th'  blud  from  Tammy's  nose  dhropped 
down  all  over  his  byootiful  shirt  front,  an'  thin  Oi  sailed 
in  mesel'  fwhin  Oi  see  fwhat  was  goin'  an,  an'  takin'  th' 
broom  Oi  chased  them  both  into  the  parlor,  fwhere  they're 
locked  in  now.  So  plase  an'  do  me  th'  favor,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty,  to  say  that  Toozy  has  the  typhide  fayver,  an* 
there'll  be  no  weddin'  till  next  Wunsda'.  Do  that  loike  a 
good  woman,  an'  Oi'll  do  as  mooch  for  you  anither  toime, 
an'  God  bless  you !" 


COMMENTS  BEFOEE  THE  WEDDING. 

"Did  ye  see  my  Tammy  brawt  into  me  be  two  blyue 
coats  afwhoile  ago,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?"  asked  the  Widow 
Magoogin,  coming  to  the  fence  and  leaning  over  it  for  a 
short  talk. 

"Oi  was  payin'  no  attintion,  to  tell  ye  the  troot',  Mrs. 
Magoogin,"  said  the  neighbor. 

"I  thought  not,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow; 
"an'  that's  fwhy  Oi  kem  out  to  uxplain  it  till  ye,  the  way 
that  ye'd  not  be  afther  misandhershtandin'  th'  cause  av  it. 
Ther'  ar'  some  people,  ye  know,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that 
always  haves  wan  eye  out  av  their  windys  moindin'  ither 
people's  bezniss,  an'  fwhoile  Oi'm  not  sayin'  annythin'  agin 
you,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty — the  Lord  forbid  that  I  shud  say  a 
wurrid  agin  a  daycint  an'  f rindly  woman  loike  yersel',  me 


76  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

frind — Oi  was  afeert  ye  moight  a  seen  Tammy  comin'  in, 
an'  not  andhershtandin'  the  fwhy  an'  the  fwherefore  av 
th'  thing  ye  moight  a'  mishconshtrooed  it  an'  thawt  Tammy 
was  shtailin'  somethin'  or  doin'  somethin'  agin  the  law; 
an'  sure  ye  know  yerseP  that  the  poor  gommah  wudn't  do 
the  loikes  av  tha1«,  no  more  he  wudn't,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
Fwhin  they  brawt  th'  poor  b'y  in  wid  a  cut  in  his  head  big 
enough  to  dhroive  a  thruck  through,  upan  me  sowl  Oi 
thawt  Oi'd  lose  me  loife,  Oi  did.  'Fwhat's  the  matther, 
me  darlint?'  sez  Oi,  takin'  him  in  me  arms  and  sthrokin' 
his  poor  little  faytures.  'Did  ye  have  a  foight  at  base  bawl 
an'  did  the  impoire  shlug  ye?'  'No,  mudder,'  sez  he;  'it 
was  the  Ditchman  in  the  grocery  belyow,'  sez  he.  'The 
Ditchman  ?'  sez  Oi ;  'an'  f what  did  he  do  it  far,  me  doomp- 
lin'?'  sez  Oi.  'Dey  sed  we  war  goin'  to  have  a  tarrier 
weddin',  sez  he.  'A  tarrier  weddin'  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Yis,'  sez  he, 
'an'  Oi  trew  a  breek  at  thim.'  'Ye  did  parfectly  roight/ 
sez  Oi.  'An'  it  broke  the  Ditchman's  windy,'  sez  he.  'An' 
thin  he  shlugged  ye,'  sez  Oi.  'Yis,'  sez  he,  lie  hot  me  wid 
a  beer  mallet.'  An'  that's  all  the  poor  b'y  kud  say.  'Take 
him  out  av  this  an'  put  him  to  bed,'  sez  the  blyue  coats. 
'Take  yersel's  out  av  here  moighty  quick,'  says  Oi  to  thim, 
'or  Oi'll  pit  a  cut  in  yer  polls  twoice  as  lang  as  Tammy's 
got,'  sez  Oi;  an'  Oi  tuk  howld  av  a  led  av  th'  thtove,  but 
afore  Oi  kud  say  'shkat !'  ur  get  to  thim,  away  they  pit  an' 
left  mesel'  an'  Tammy  all  alone.  Oi  washed  the  poor  cray- 
ther's  head  aff,  gev  him  a  dhrop  av  hot  shtuff,  an'  pit  him 
to  bed,  fwhere's  he's  ashleep  now  as  sound  as  a  bar  av  oiron 
an'  as  shweet  lukin'  as  an  angel.  Jisht  think  av  it,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty!  Hittin'  me  darlint  little  b'y  wud  a  beer 
mallet  simply  bekase  he  throid  to  defind  the  family  from  a 
lot  av  dirty-faced  little  bla'guards  who  wanted  to  call  iz 
tarriers.  Do  Oi  luk  loike  a  tarrier,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty? 
Or  diz  Toozy  ?  Or  Tammy  ?  Then  aff  there  isn't  a  tarrier 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  77 

in  the  family,  f where  diz  they  get  their  tamer's  weddin'  ? 
Faix,  there's  no  tarrier  consarned  in  it  anless  it's  Hinnery. 
Begorry,  Oi  nuver  thawt  av  him.  Oi  musht  take  a  gud  Ink 
at  him  fwhin  he  comes  nuxt  toime  an'  see  aff  he  Inks 
annythin'  loike  the  dog-faced  man  at  the  doime  mnse'm. 
Aff  he  diz,  gud  bye  to  Toozy  an'  the  weddin' — that's  all 
Oi've  got  to  say,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  fur  Oi  want  no  tarrier 
weddin'  in  my  shanty — not  aff  Oi  know  it." 


AKETHUSA  MARRIES  DUTCH  HENRY. 

Mrs.  Birdie  Magoogin's  accomplished  and  charming 
daughter  Arethusa  was  married  last  Wednesday  night  at 
the  Church  of  the  Holy  Hammer,  by  Father  Ginoccio,  to 
Mr.  Henry  Dinkelspiel,  a  well-known  swell  of  the  Fourth 
Ward,  who  is  employed  by  the  wholesale  tobacco  firm  of 
Plug,  Chaw  &  Stump. 

Mrs.  Magoogin,  who  is  a  very  quiet  woman  in  her  way, 
and  never  has  any  more  to  say  on  any  subject  than  she  can 
possibly  help,  had  all  the  arrangements  in  hand  and  con 
ducted  them  skillfully.  She  had  sent  word  to  all  the 
neighbors  that  the  festivities  would  begin  at  6  o'clock  at 
the  Italian  Church,  to  be  followed  by  a  reception  at  the 
Magoogin  mansion,  and  she  concluded  her  "inwite"  always 
with  the  same  expression : 

"An'  moind  ye  now  fwhat  Oi'm  tellin'  ye,  we  don't  want 
no  cards  an'  no  flyowers,  aither,  an'  don't  ye  dar'  to  sind 
anny." 

The  ceremony  was  performed  according  to  contract. 
The  church  was  crowded  to  the  doors.  Boys  and  girls 
stood  on  the  backs  of  pews  and  old  men  and  old"  women 
crushed  to  the  front  as  if  it  were  judgment  day  and  they 


?8  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

were  looking  for  a  last  chance  to  get  into  Heaven.  The 
bridal  couple  came  down  the  middle  aisle  looking  like  an 
Avenue  B  edition  of  Solomon  and  the  Queen  of  Sheba. 
Toozy  had  her  wreath  of  orange  blossoms  cocked  over  her 
left  eye  and  Henry's  dress  coat  was  so  large  in  the  shoulders 
that  it  lay  in  corrugated  and  frilled  abundance  on  the  back 
of  his  neck. 

Mrs.  Magoogin,  who,  disregarding  all  the  proprieties  of 
the  occasion,  had  arrayed  herself  in  a  bright-figured  calico 
and  walked  behind  the  contracting  parties,  arm-in-arm 
with  Tommy,  the  tough,  who  wore  a  short  jacket,  and 
looked  like  a  rather  hard  little  citizen  with  his  skinned 
nose  and  white  bandage  over  his  head  to  conceal  the  mark 
of  the  spot  where  Toozy  hit  him  with  the  potato  masher 
the  week  before.  Mrs.  Magoogin,  as  I  said,  cuffed  two  or 
three  little  scapegraces  who  leaned  out  of  the  pews  to  shout : 
"Get  on  to  the  dude,"  as  Tommy  went  by,  and  her  face  wore 
a  smile  as  round  as  the  end  of  a  beer  keg  and  as  radiant 
as  the  moon,  while  she  kept  rhythmic  step  to  the  "Mulligan 
Wedding,"  which  was  played  in  the  organ  loft  as  the  pro 
cession  moved  down  the  aisle.  Behind  the  Magoogins  came 
fat  Mrs.  Dinkelspiel  and  her  favorite  boarder,  whose 
whiskers  were  cut  in  the  shape  of  a  shoe  peg.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Jerry  McGlaggerty  followed  and  behind  them  were 
the  O'Hallorans,  the  McGintys,  the  Slatterys  and  a  perfect 
rabble  of  shoeless,  shock-headed  and  dirty-faced  children. 
By  special  arrangement  with  Mrs.  Magoogin,  the  funeral 
torches,  two  on  each  side  of  the  altar,  were  ablaze. 

Father  Ginoccio  had  no  easy  time  performing  the  cere 
mony.  All  the  tobacco  stemmers  from  Plug,  Chaw  & 
Stump's  factory  were  there,  and  two  or  three  of  the  girls 
who  were  in  the  front  pews  made  loud  and  most  unpleasant 
remarks  about  Toozy,  and  Tommy's  mother  had  to  take 
him  in  her  arms  and  hold  him  tightly  to  prevent  him  from 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  79 

slugging  the  unfriendly  girls  and  perhaps  breaking  up 
the  wedding.  Two  or  three  pews  broke  down,  and  a  row 
in  the  gallery,  where  an  inoffensive  Italian,  who  shouted, 
"Chessanutta,"  when  the  priest  asked  Toozy  the  usual 
question,  "Do  you  take  this  man  for  your  lawful  husband, 
etc.  ?"  was  nearly  killed  by  several  Fourth  Warders,  created 
quite  a  sensation.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  "stood  up" 
with  the  bride  and  groom  and  Mrs.  Magoogin  gave  her 
daughter  away.  There  was  a  stampede  after  the  perform 
ance  and  the  proceedings  in  the  Magoogin  mansion  are 
best  described  in  the  Widow's  own  language. 

"Fwhere  did  yerseP  an'  Jurry  go  to  lash'  noight,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty  ?"  Mrs.  Magoogin  asked  her  neighbor  the 
morning  after  the  wedding. 

"We  wint  home  fwhin  the  foightin'  begon,  Mrs.  Ma 
googin,"  was  Mrs.  McGlaggerty's  reply. 

"Faix  'n'  it's  well  ye  did,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the 
Widow  Magoogin,  "fur  it's  purty  near  havin'  a  roide  in 
the  hoodlum  cart  that  meseF  an'  the  resht  av  thim  had 
afore  we  wint  to  bed,  alanna.  Ora  my,  but  wasn't  there 
the  goin's  an  fwhin  the  p'lice  kem  in  an  iz.  Oi  thawt  they'd 
make  a  morgew  out  av  the  house  wud  the  murdherin'  an' 
shtobbin'  an'  throwin'  av  things  at  wan  another  that  they 
had;  but  sure  ye  war  there  yerseP,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an* 
f what's  th'  ushe  av  tellin'  ye  fwhat  ye  knows  yerseP  already, 
avourneen.  Ye  was  there  av  coorse  fwhin  Toozy  an'  Hin- 
nery  shtud  undher  the  horseshoe  of  flyowers  an'  resaived 
their  gushts.  Oh,  my,  but  didn't  Toozy  luk  byootiful  in 
her  fwhoite  dhress  an'  wud  the  boonch  av  awrange  blyos- 
soms  an  the  top  av  her  head  over  her  veil.  Begorra,  but 
didn't  she  make  a  shmash  an'  a  noospaper  repoarther  who 
pramised  to  pit  it  in  the  paper  that  she  wore  di'minds  in  her 
airs  an'  had  a  nicklace  av  di'mings  around  her  nick,  an' 
who  sed  he'd  also  pit  it  in  the  paper  that  I  gev  the  broide 


80  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

a  weddin'  prisint  av  a  noo  brownstone  front  house  on  Fifth 
Avenoo?  Tammy  opened  a  kag  av  beer  out  in  the  yard 
here  as  ye  know  yelseP,  fur  it  was  yer  Jurry  that  opin'd  it 
for  him,  an'  be  the  same  token,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  it  was 
yer  Jurry  that  bravely  helpt  to  dhrink  the  same.  Tut, 
tut,  tut,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  no  apologizing  aff  ye  plaise, 
fur  Oi'm  glad  Jurry  dhronk  it,  and  Oi'd  a  moighty  soight 
suner  have  him  dhrink  nor  anny  av  thim  other  bla'guards 
that  kept  shtandin'  around  it  wud  him  all  noight.  So  there 
now,  say  no  more  about  it,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  let  it  be 
forgotten. 

"Well,  as  Oi  sed  before,  mo  frind,  ye  war  there  yerseP, 
so  fwhat's  the  ushe  av  tellin'  ye  how  noice  an'  shmooth 
uvrythin'  wint  an'  how  foine  the  shupper  was  that  Oi  cuked 
meseP,  antil  Micky  McLaughlin,  bad  look  to  his  fat  carkiss, 
got  that  dhrunk,  savin'  yer  prisince,  that  he  broke  th' 
fiddler's  fiddle  an'  put  an  ind  to  the  dancin',  afther  fwhich 
he  pulled  a  pack  av  graisy  cards  out  av  his  pocket  an* 
wanted  to  play  Hinnery  a  game  av  h'arts  fur  twinty-foive 
cints  a  game.  Musha,  may  the  Lawd  forgive  me,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  but  aff  uver  Oi  wished  harm  to  annybody  in 
all  my  loife,  Oi  wished  it  to  that  man  lash  'noight,  an'  afE 
anny  av  my  pray'rs  overtake  him  it's  a  sad  toime  he'll  have 
av  it  fur  the  remaindher  av  his  days,  bad  dang  to  'im ! 

"Well,  fwhin  Oi  seen  fwhat  he  done  Oi  shtept  up  to 
him  an'  Oi  sez,  aisy  an'  paiceful,  sez  Oi,  'See  here,  now, 
Micky,  darlint,'  sez  Oi,  'didn't  I  say  that  nobody  was  to 
bring  anny  cards  to  the  weddin'?'  sez  Oi.  'Who  sed  so?' 
sez  her.  'Oi  sed  so,'  sez  Oi.  'It's  not  the  shtoyle,'  sez  Oi, 
'to  bring  cards  to  weddin's  anny  more,'  sez  Oi ;  'don't  ye  see 
it  in  the  papers  uv'ry  day  that  there's  no  cards  wanted?' 
eez  Oi,  'an'  it  id  be  the  daycint  thing,  annyhow,'  sez  Oi, 
'fwhin  ye  was  bringin'  cards/  sez  Oi,  'aff  ye'd  a  brawt  a 
noice  clain  pack  inshtud  av  the  durty,  graisy  articles  ye 


WIDOW  MAGOOGIN.  8l 

have  there/  sez  Oi.  Divil  an  answer  the  lazy  lob  med  me  at 
all,  at  all,  but  he  gev  a  hurroo  loiko  a  woild  Injun  an* 
threw  the  cards  all  over  the  room.  The  next  thing  herd 
was  Tammy  an'  Toozy  an'  Hinnery  thryin'  to  purwint 
Micky  fram  cloimbin'  into  the  bed  fwhere  the  weddin' 
prisints,  most  av  them  glass,  as  ye  know  yersel',  was  lyin* 
fwhere  the  folks  kud  see.  The  three  av  thim  was  shtrug- 
glin'  wud  'im  fwhin  Oi  med  a  shtart  fur  'im,  but  afore  Oi 
kud  take  howldt  he  got  loose  an'  flung  himsel'  anto  the 
bed  roight  into  the  midsht  av  the  prisints.  Ow,  wow !  but 
wasn't  there  melia  murther  thin!  Toozy  shraiked  an' 
Tammy  howld  an'  meself  pickt  up  a  three-legged  shtule 
an'  med  a  rish  fur  Micky.  Oi'll  howld  ye  tin  dollars  it'll 
be  manny  a  long  day  afore  his  head  furgets  th'  acquaintince 
it  med  wud  that  shtule.  You  kud  hear  th'  crack  Oi  gev 
him  over  in  Hobokin  beyant.  He  rowled  over  in  the 
broken  glass  an'  lay  there  loike  wan  that  id  be  dead.  Thin 
there  was  th'  hullabaloo  in  airnisht,  wud  shraikin'  an* 
scraichin'  an'  hollerin'  an'  foightin'  fwhin  in  kem  th' 
p'lice  an  iz  an'  tuk  away  all  they  kud  get  in  th'  waggin. 

"The  besht  av  the  joke  is,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that  they 
tuk  Hinnery  an'  his  mother,  an'  meseP  an'  Toozy  are  goin* 
down  to  the  coort  by'meby  to  get  the  poor  b'y  out.  No,  they 
didn't  get  Tammy.  Him  an'  your  Jurry  rin  out  to  save  th' 
kag  av  beer  fwhin  th'  foightin'  begon,  an'  afther  that  Oi 
sh'pose  Jurry  wint  home.  Oh,  but  it  wud  have  bin  th* 
foine  weddin',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  aff  it  hadn't  a  bin  fur 
Mick  McLaughlin,  bad  dang  to  him !" 


82  WIDOW  MAGOOGIN. 


A  FAMILY  MISUNDERSTANDING. 

"How  ar'  the  McGlaggertys  this  mawrnin',  me  f rind  ?" 
"As  well  as  the  Magoogins,  Oi'll  howld  ye." 
"An'  d'ye  know  how  well  that  is,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 
"  'Pon  me  sowl  Oi  do  not,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 
"Thin  id's  not  well  at  all,  at  all,  me  frind,"  said  the 
Widow  Magoogin.  "There's  bin  almosht  a  bluddy  murdher 
in  the  shanty  beyant,  an'  id  all  kem  about  in  the  aisiest  an' 
simplest  way  in  the  wurruld.  Fwhisper  an'  Oi'll  tell  id  to 
you.  Fwhin  my  daughter  Toozy  married  Hinnery  Dinkel- 
shpiel,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  consinted  to  consail  her  own 
father's  grand  owld  Oirish  name  behoind  the  sourkrout 
name  av  a  Ditch  boordin'-house  keeper,  she  hadn't  the 
shloightist  intintion  that  Hinnery  id  uver  ax  her  to  change 
her  nationality.  As  Oi  towld  her  mesel'  an  the  day  av  the 
weddin',  'Toozy,  me  daughther,'  sez  Oi,  'your  hizband  may 
be  Ditch,  an'  all  his  frinds  an'  relatives  may  be  Ditch,'  sez 
Oi,  *but,  Arethusy  Magoogin,  Ushquire,  is  Oirish  as  Billy- 
be-damned,'  sez  Oi,  'an'  all  the  sourkrout  and  sdiusages 
bechuxt  Sandy  Hook  an'  Brislin  '11  nuver  be  able  to  make 
her  annythin'  else,'  sez  Oi.  'Yis,'  says  my  son  Tammy; 
Tier  face  is  a  parfeck  bokay  of  shamrocks,'  sez  he. 
'Throth'n  id  is,  Tammy,  me  darlint,'  sez  Oi,  'an'  sure  an* 
ye'll  acknowledge  yersel',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that  anny  wan 
kud  almosht  tell  be  lukin'  at  her  in  the  dark  thai  Toozy's 
Oirish  to  the  backbone,  an'  Galway  at  that,  God  bless  her ! 
Well,  lo  an'  behold  ye,  fwhat  diz  Hinnery  do  lasht  noight, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  thry  to  argy  Toozy  into  belaivin* 
that  Bismarck  is  a  bigger  an'  betther  man  nor  Parnell.' 
'Bismarck  is  a  joint,'  sez  he,  an'  Parnell  is  a  midget.' 
Tou're  a  loir/  sez  Toozy,  gettin'  rale  angry  an'  losin'  her 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  83 

timper.  'Yis,  you  ar'  a  loir,  an'  a  dang  loir,  too/  sez  Oi. 
'That's  aisy  enough  to  say/  sez  he,  'but  it's  no  argyment/ 
sez  he.  'Oh,  id's  not/  sez  Oi.  'Well,  id's  no  argyment/  sez 
Oi,  'but  fwhat's  more,  id's  the  thruth/  sez  Oi.  'Yis,  it  is 
th'  thruth/  sez  Toozy,  boickin'  me  up.  'Bismarck  kin  ait 
Parnell  up/  sez  he.  'Oh,  he  kin,  kin  he?'  sez  Oi;  'mebbe 
he  kin,  thin,  but  he  can't  shpit  him  up  agin,  an'  that's 
fwhat  Parnell  kin  do  wud  Misther  Bismarck,  me  bouchal/ 
sez  Oi;  'he  kin  ait  your  Bismarck  up  and  shpit  him  out 
agin/  sez  Oi.  'He  kin  do  no  such  thing/  sez  Hinnery. 
'Thin  uxshcuse  me,  Ditchy,  but  Oi'll  have  to  call  ye  a  loir 
agin/  sez  Oi. 

"An'  so  an  wan  wurrud  borried  another  until  the  little 
Ditch  jackanapes  wint  too  far  intoirely  \vid  his  insinewa- 
tions,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  Oi  up  wud  a  blackin'  brish 
that  was  lyin'  an  the  parlor  table  an'  pegged  it  at  him. 
Glory  be  to  gudness,  but  id  hot  him  over  th'  eye  an'  down 
he  dhropped,  bleedin'  loike  a  shtuck  pig.  An'  thin  mebbe 
there  wasn't  melia  murther !  Tammy  wanted  to  kick  him 
in  th'  nick,  so  he  sed,  but  Toozy  tuk  howld  av  him,  an'  id 
was  an  hour  an'  tin  minnits  before  uv'rythin'  quoited  down 
an*  was  goin'  aisy  agin.  But  Oi'll  howld  ye  tin  dollars  id's 
many  a  day  afore  Ditch  Hinnery'll  thry  to  tell  iz  agin  that 
Bismarck  is  a  betther  man  nor  Parnell.  Id's  foonny,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  about  the  ways  av  young  married  couples 
nowadays,  isn't  id?  Throth  'n  Oi'm  gettin'  to  think  id 
sthronger  an'  sthronger  uv'ry  day  that  this  Ihree-card 
moonkey  woman  that's  wroitin'  so  mooch  fur  th'  papers  is 
purty  near  about  roight  fwhin  she  sez  marriage  is  a  failure. 
Yis,  an'  she  moight  have  added  a  wurrud  or  two  to  id,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  an'  sed  divoorce  is  a  success." 


84  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 


THERE  MAY  BE  A  DIVORCE. 

"Muslia  bad  luk  to  ye,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the 
Widow  Magoogin,  peering  over  the  fence,  "but  how  ar'  ye, 
annyhow,  an'  how  is  the  weather  over  in  yer  yard  there  ?" 

"Oh,  thin,  we're  all  well,  Mrs.  Magoogin,"  the  neighbor 
answered,  "an'  the  weather's  cold  enough  to  make  a  con- 
flaggeration  comfortyble." 

"Faix  'n  ye  nuver  sed  a  throoer  wurrid,  Mrs.  McGlag-! 
gerty,"  the  Widow  replied,  "an*  it's  meself  id  be  willin' 
to  go  into  coort  to  back  ye  up  anny  minnit  in  the  day. 
fwhether  id  be  in  a  boodle  throil  or  a  divoorce  case.  An', 
begorra,  be  the  same  tokin,  it's  not  so  vurry  onloikely  but 
fwhat  Oi'll  be  gittin'  into  a  divoorce  meself  wan  av  these 
foine  days.  God  help  iz,  but  it's  a  turrible  wurrild.  Ye 
remim'r  fwhat  a  hoigh  owld  toime  we  had  the  noight  av 
th'  weddin'  an'  how  Hinnery — the  innocent  gommah  av  a 
Ditch  fool ! — got  taken  away  be  the  polaice.  Well,  as  Oi 
towld  ye  an'  as  av  coorse  ye'd  know  annyways  widout  me 
tellin'  ye — fur  bad  news  always  has  the  longest  legs  an'  diz 
the  fashtest  rinnin' — Hinnery  got  a  moonth  on  the  oislan' 
beyant  fur  doin'  nawthin'  at  all  but  bein'  a  gesht  at  his 
own  weddin'  faist.  Sure  an'  didn't  the  polaicemin  go  into 
opin  coort  an'  shwear  that  he  was  nothin'  but  a  murdherer, 
an'  that  they'd  known  him  be  gin'ral  reputation  fur  tin 
years  an'  that  reputation  was  the  worsht  that  annybody 
liver  had  in  Noo  Yorrick.  The  joodge  sed  he  had  the  cut 
av  a  bad  charrackther,  an'  he  sint  him  up  fur  a  moonth, 
an'  remarkt  that  he  was  sarry  he  kudn't  make  it  twoict  as 
long.  Oh,  but  thim  polaicemin  are  the  villyins!  They'd 
shwear  away  the  loives  av  their  gran'mothers  to  make  a 
case.  They're  all  perjooriers  av  the  worst  toype!  But 


WIDOW  MAGOOGIN.  85 

coomin'  back  to  the  divoorce  an'  lavin'  thim  spalpeens  av 
blyue  coats  alone,  bad  scram  to  the  whole  dirthy  caboodle 
av  thim — Hinnery  got  home  this  mornin',  afther  sarvin' 
his  toime  an'  fwhin  he  wint  to  the  tobacky  facth'ry  to  go  to 
wurrik,  bless  yer  loife  an'  sowl,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but 
didn't  they  have  anither  man  in  his  place.  Now  he's  in- 
soide  there  sittin'  on  his  coat  tails,  an'  him  an'  Toozy's 
doin'  nawthin'  but  talkin'  about  Christmas  an'  th'  prisints 
they  uxshpecs  to  resaive,  an'  divil  dang  the  red  cint  they 
owns  bechuxt  the  two  av  thim.  A  sorry  prashpect  fur 
Berdie  Magoogin,  Esq.,  that's  always  bin  ushed  to  plinty, 
ain't  it?  It  was  bad  enoof  afore  wid  Tammy  an'  Toozy, 
me  own  childher,  to  provoid  fur,  but  now  Oi  have  the  little 
bow-legged  Ditchman  into  the  bargin,  fur  he  dassent  go 
back  to  his  fat  moother  an'  her  boordin'  house  anny  more, 
so  he  dassent,  since  he  med  Toozy  his  woife.  Oi'm  in  hard 
howlt  fur  a  way  to  begin,  but  I'm  goin'  to  give  thim  a 
talkin'  to.  I'm  goin'  to  tell  thim  that  aither  wan  av  thim 
'11  have  to  foind  somethin'  to  do,  or  I'll  go  down  to  a  1'yer 
to-morry  mawrnin'  an'  see  about  gettin'  a  divoorce  fram 
thim.  I  don't  loike  to  shkandaloize  meself  wud  me  neigh 
bors,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  love  is  wan  thing  an'  grub  is 
anither,  an'  the  grub  ain't  as  aizy  to  get  as  th'  other  is — no, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  not  by  a  jug  full.  Wait  a  minnit,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  till  ye  hear  Toozy  blubberin'  out  on  the  rair 
shtoop  an'  thin  ye'll  know  that  I've  bin  talkin'  divoorce  to 
th'  pair  av  turkle  doves." 


86  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 


SOUP  FOR  THE  SON-IN-LAW. 

"D'ye  ate  soup,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 

"Throth'n'  Oi  do,  an'  Oi  loikes  id,  too,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"FaixV  Oi  loikes  id  mesel',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty — but  id's 
so  Ditchy." 

"Is  that  so,  now,  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 

"Yis,  indade,  it's  so,"  said  the  Widow.  "Uver  since  me 
daughther  Toozy  married  Hinnery  Dinkilshpiel,  tin 
months  ago,  he's  bin  talkin'  av  nawthin'  but  soup,  soup, 
soup  at  uv'ry  mail  uver  since.  Bad  sesht  to  him,  but  id's 
in  th'  soup  Oi'd  be  afther  pittin'  him,  aff  Oi  had  my  way 
about  id.  Fwhy  doon't  ye  have  soup  soomtoimes,  Mrs.  Ma 
googin  ?'  he  sez  to  me  wud  a  sickly  smoile  an  th'  ind  av  his 
shnout.  'Fwhy  don't  ye  have  th'  maisles  soomtoimes,  ye 
owld  sheoagh?'  is  th'  answer  Oi  gives  him  boick.  'Bekase 
Oi  doon't  want  to,'  sez  he.  'An'  that's  th'  raison  fwhy  Oi 
doon't  have  soup,  naither,'  sez  Oi.  Divil's  th'  shmall  satis 
faction  he  uver  gits  out  av  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Th' 
other  day,  howuver,  was  his  bert'day  an'  Oi  sed  to  mesel' 
that  Oi'd  shupproise  Hinnery  wud  a  plate  av  soup,  an' 
hopin'  an'  prayin'  all  along  that  it  id  p'ison  th'  little  Ditch 
oansha,  Oi  wint  to  wurruk  an'  med  it.  'Twas  the  fusht 
toime  Oi  uver  throied  me  hand  at  id,  an'  Oi  had  to  get 
Toozy  to  luke  me  up  a  rassepoy  in  a  cuke  buke.  Consoom 
is  fwhat  Toozy  calls  id,  an'  Tammy  pits  a  Frinch  pucker 
an  his  mout'  an'  sez  id's  soupy  de  boolyon  med  wud  wan 
unyong,  but  Oi  pit  no  inguns  in  id — Oi  wasn't  goin'  to 
shpile  me  breat'  wud  inguns  fur  no  crazy  Ditchman  on 
airth.  Oi  have  to  go  to  church  durin'  Lint  an'  don't  want 
to  p'ison  th'  congregation  wud  me  breat'.  The  cuke  buke 
eed  to  make  id  out  av  soup  mate  an'  vegytables  an'  Oi  did 


WIDOW   MAGOOG1N.  87 

id.  Oi  pit  in  pashnips  an'  cabbige  an'  peyraties,  an'  Oi 
biled  th'  divil  out  av  all  av  thim  fur  two  morthial  hours; 
thin  Oi  tuk  id  up  aff  the  foire,  an'  not  knowin'  fwhat  else 
to  do  wud  it  Oi  left  it  there  till  Hinnery  kem  in.  Fwhin 
he  did  he  sed  Oi  didn't  make  id  roight.  'Me  mother  did 
so  an  'so/  he  shtarted  to  tell  me,  but  Oi  nuver  let  him  get 
to  th'  ind  av  th'  sintence.  'Here  now,  me  man,'  sez  Oi,  'say 
no  more  about  yer  moother ;  she's  an  owld  shlob/  sez  Oi. 
'But  she  knows  how  to  make  soup,'  sez  he.  'Ditch  soup/ 
sez  Oi.  'Annybody  kin  make  that/  sez  Oi.  'They  can't 
make  it  loike  me  mother/  sez  he.  'Oh,  they  can't,  can't 
they?'  sez  Oi.  'Well,  thin,  aff  they  can't,  kin  yer  mother 
do  as  well  as  that?'  sez  Oi,  takin'  howlt  av  th'  pot  an* 
heavin'  it,  mait  an'  soup  an'  all,  at  him.  God  save  th'  mark, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  it  hot  him  in  th'  chesht  an'  down 
he  wint  wud  th'  soup  an'  cabbage  an'  mait  thricklin'  down 
all  over  him.  Oi  thawt  he  was  shcalded.  Toozy  set  up  a 
hullybaloo,  Tammy  hollered  foire  an'  Hinnery  shcrambled 
to  his  feet  an'  rin  out  in  th'  sthreet,  yellin'  polaice!  We 
all  dhragged  him  in  an'  Oi  gev  him  a  shtrong  paice  av  my 
moind  an'  that  was  th'  lasht  av  th'  talk  about  soup  in  my 
house.  Ye  kin  bet  yer  loife,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  it'll  be  th' 
lasht  av  th'  Ditchmon,  too,  aff  he  uver  opens  his  head  about 
his  owld  moother  to  me  agin,  me  frind.  Moind  that  now, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty!" 


88  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 


SUPPORTING  A  SON-IN-LAW. 

"Do  ye  know  aff  Jurry  has  aiar  a  job  down  fwhere  he 
wurruks,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?"  the  Widow  Magoogin  in 
quired,  as  she  was  going  out,  after  having  borrowed  a  po 
tato  pounder. 

"Oi  do  not,  Mrs.  Magoogin,"  was  the  answer,  "but  Oi'll 
ax  him." 

"Oi  wish  ye  wud,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow, 
"fur  Oi'd  loike  ever  so  mooch  to  have  Toozy's  husban'  out 
av  the  house  doin'  somethin'  an'  airnin'  a  little  to-rds  his 
own  support  at  laist.  Hasn't  he  wurruked  anny?  Sorra 
the  shtroke  since  the  weddin',  an'  there's  no  soign  av  him 
doin'  annythin',  nayther — not  but  that  the  little  Ditch 
divil  is  willin'  enoof  to  wurruk,  but  he  sez  there  isn't  a  lick 
av  annythin'  goin'  fur  anny  wan  to  get  to  do — an'  sure  an' 
hasn't  my  poor  b'y  Tammy,  that  though  he  diz  be  called  a 
toof,  wudn't  tell  his  mother  a  lie  fur  all  the  wurruld, 
hasn't  he  towld  me  the  same  thing  twinty  hundhert  toimes 
aff  he  towld  it  to  me  wanst.  Begarry,  it  saims  to  me  that 
the  hard  toimes  is  goin'  harder  wid  the  widdies  loike  me- 
self  than  wid  anny  wan  else.  Here  Oi  am,  shcrapin'  an' 
shcourin'  frum  mawrnin'  till  noight,  wud  me  wurruk  al 
ways  beginning  an'  nuver  indin',  an'  fwhot  am  Oi  doin'  it 
fur?  Only  to  make  me  own  childer  an'  other  payple's 
childer,  too,  be  the  same  token,  happy  an'  continted  wud 
their  lot. 

'Pon  me  wurrud,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  it's  jisht  loike  the 
throuble  there  is  betwixt  capital  an'  labor — wan  diz  de 
wurruk  an'  th'  other  gets  all  th'  injoyment  out  av  it. 
Divil  a  bit  av  injoyment  Oi  have  at  all  at  all,  unless  it's 
wanst  in  a  fwhoile  meself  an'  yerself  has  £  bucket  av  beer 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN,  89 

to  dhrink,  or  Mrs.  Hooligan  comes  in  that  dizn't  dhrink 
anny  beer  an'  Oi  makes  her  a  sup  av  hot  shtuff.  Oi'm  th' 
lab  orin'  ind  av  our  consarn  over  beyant,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
an'  Hinnery  an'  Toozy  an'  Tammy  are  th'  Goulds  an'  Van- 
dherbilks.  Oi  don't  moind  Tammy  so  mooch,  ur  Toozy, 
aither,  fur  that  matther,  as  they're  me  own  flesh  an'  blud, 
but  that  Ditch  boordin'  house  woman's  son — the  bow- 
legged  an'  yally-nicked  chromeo — the  soight  uv  him  around 
th'  house  makes  me  sick.  There  he  is,  day  an'  noight,  him 
an'  Toozy,  cootchy-cootchyin'  aitch  other  loike  a  pair  av 
canary  berds  an'  spoonin'  an'  sputterin'  wud  their  dis- 
ghustin'  baby  talk  antil  wan  feels  loike  hittin'  thim  wud  a 
sock  full  av  soft  moosh.  Oi  can't  get  no  gud  av  thim — fur 
Hinnery's  mother  won't  take  him  back,  an'  Toozy  sez  she'd 
die  sooner  than  part  wud  him  bekase  the  silly  little  goose 
sez  she  loves  him  an'  can't  live  widout  him.  So  there  I 
am,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  not  knowin'  fwhich  way  to  turn  or 
fwhat  to  do  wud  thim.  Oi  can't  ax  Hinnery  to  laive,  fur 
it's  too  soon  afther  Chrish'mas  an'  foonds  are  too  low  fur 
a  fun'ril  in  the  family — so  Oi  shuppose  Oi  must  stand  it. 
Oi'm  thinkin'  meself  the  fau't  lies  in  the  marriage  laws 
av  this  counthry  that  lets  yally-haired  boys  marry  silly 
little  gerls  fur  the  sake  av  foindin'  aisy  toimes  an'  com 
fortable  homes  wid  the  poor  widdy  wimmin  av  this  anfort'- 
nit  land.  Am  Oi  roight  or  am  Oi  wrang,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty  ?  Av  course  Oi'm  roight,  an'  ye  know  it.  Arrah,  now, 
fwhat  pit  that  into  yer  head  ?  Fwhy  no,  av  course  not.  Is 
it  no  sich  an  onfrindly  act  as  committin'  murdher  wud  a 
neighbor's  potaty  poundher  ye'd  be  sushpectin'  me  av.  Oh, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Oi  thawt  betther  of  ye  than  that.  Ye 
ought  to  know  that  Oi  wudn't  roise  a  hand  to  Hinnery,  let 
alone  to  bait  him  wud  yer  potaty  poundher.  Nya,  nah! 
Oi'm  too  human  fur  that,  but  aff  it  was  his  fat  an'  graisy 
Ditch  mother  Oi  kem  acrass  Oi'd  not  be  answerabil  fur 


90  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

fwhat  Oi  moight  do — fur  Oi  think  Oi'd  be  timptid  to  give 
her  a  clip  av  the  poundher  in  the  poll  aivin  at  th'  ixpinse 
av  buyin'  a  noo  poundher,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 


AKETHUSA'S  BABY. 

"Fwhisper,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow  Magoo- 
gin,  after  she  had  tip-toed  up  to  the  door  of  the  neighbor's 
kitchen  in  a  most  mysterious  way. 

"What  is  it,  Mrs.  Magoogin?"  the  neighbor  asked. 

"Toozy's  got  a  baby !" 

"Ye  doon't  say  so.    Whin  did  it  happin  ?" 

"This  blissid  minnit." 

"Aw,  thin,  is  that  so?" 

"Yis,  an'  it  have's  black  hair  an'  the  nose  av  the  Ma- 
googins,"  said  the  Widow,  rejoicing.  "Oh,  bit  wasn't  it 
meseP  was  glad  fwhin  Oi  seen  it  didn't  luk  loike  a  Ditch- 
man  !  Oi  was  afraid  av  me  loife  all  along,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  that  it  id  be  a  crass  bechuxt  a  Choinyman  an'  a 
Ditchman  in  id't  luks,  bekase  ids  pippaw,  as  Toozy  calls  'im, 
has  a  resim'lince  that  way;  but  thanks  be  to  glory  id's  all 
roight  an'  ye'd  nuver  know  in  the  wurrild  that  Hinnery 
Dinkelspiel  was  ids  father.  Tammy  sez  id  haves  a  face 
an  id  loike  a  hammer,  but  that's  only  Tammy's  toof  shtoyle 
av  sayin'  things,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  An'  d'ye  know,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  id's  a  gerl — yis,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  we're 
goin'  to  call  it  Honora  or  Winifred  or  Caylia.  Toozy  an' 
me  jisht  had  a  foight  about  ids  name — sick  an'  all  as  she 
is,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  she  had  the  gall  to  begin  argyin'  wud 
me  about  givin'  the  baby  ids  name — me  that  knows  some- 
thin'  about  babies  an'  her  that  has  id  all  to  1'arn  yet. 
'Mimmaw !'  sez  she,  wid  a  v'ice  an  her  loike  a  dyin'  canary 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  9! 

burd.  'Fwhat  is  id,  me  darlint  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Thry  an'  f oind 
a  shwait  name  fur  the  baby/  sez  she.  'Yis/  sez  Oi;  'we'll 
call  id  Honora/  sez  Oi.  'No,  no,  no/  sez  she,  quoite  indig- 
nint  loike.  No,  we'll  call  id  Chryshantemumps  ur  Cardi- 
naylio/  sez  she.  'Fwhat  fur?'  sez  Oi.  'Bekase  they're 
purty  wurrids/  sez  she.  'Purty  wurrids  be  danged/  sez  Oi. 
'Honora  was  me  own  moother's  name,  an'  id  was  purty 
enoof  for  her,  begorry/  sez  Oi,  'an'  id  ought  to  be  purty 
enoof  fur  a  Ditch-Oirish  kid  anny  day  in  the  waik/  sez  Oi. 
Wid  that  she  began  to  cry,  an'  Oi  shkipt  out  an'  kem  over 
here  to  ye.  Oi'll  name  id  me  own  name,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  \ 
ur  divil  the  name  at  all  id'll  have.  'Fwhat's  in  a  name  ?'  j 
sez  owld  Noo-Hampshire,  the  poit.  Well,  Oi  think  there's 
uv'rythin'  in  id  f  whin  it  comes  to  namin'  yer  own  baby,  • 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Hinnery's  mother,  Oi  shuppose,  '11 
want  to  call  id  Layna  ur  Kat-rayna  ur  Bologny  ur  Sour 
Krout  ur  somethin'  av  the  kind,  but,  so  help  me  Paddy 
Clancy,  aff  she  uver  sez  a  wurrid  to  me  about  anny  av  their 
names  Oi'll  hit  her  in  the  neck  wud  an  ingin'.  Toozy's 
baby's  an  Oirish  baby,  Oi'll  have  her  andhershtand,  an* 
anny  interfayrince  av  the  Ditch  '11  be  resinted  by  uvry 
thrue  Oirishman  an  Churry  Hill.  Fwhat  aff  ids  fayther  is 
Ditch?  Ids  moother  is  Oirish,  an'  ids  moother's  moother 
is  Oirish,  an'  all  their  payple  afore  thim  wuz  as  Oirish  as 
Billy  be  danged.  D'ye  think,  now,  that  afther  all  these 
years  we're  going'  to  let  a  little  yally-nikt  an'  bow-legged 
Ditchman  kem  in  an'  rob  iz  aff  our  national'ty  ?  Fwhat  aff 
he  iz  ids  father — the  baby  had  to  have  a  father,  didn't  he  ? 
— an'  a  father's  no  great  shakes  annyway  in  a  case  av  this 
kind — is  he,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?" 


92  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 


TOMMY'S  JOKE  ON  TOOZY'S  BABY. 

"Hurroo,  there,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  \" 

"Fwhat  is  id,  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 

"Do  ye  know  anythin'  about  beabies  ?" 

"Divil  the  thing,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Well,  well,  well!"  said  the  Widow.  "Id's  a  quare 
wnrruld  intoirely.  Here  we  ar'  growin'  up  an'  gettin' 
owlder  uv'ry  day,  an'  the  longer  we  live,  as  Jurry  Donovan 
sez,  the  more  we  foind  out.  Oi  thawt  Oi  knew  somethin' 
about  childher,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  for  Oi've  raised  a  pair 
av  the  darlint  craythures  in  Noo  Yorrick  meself,  an"  be  the 
same  token  Oi  had  to  pay  a  foive-dollar  foine  in  the  polaice 
coort  this  mawrnin'  fur  me  b'y  Tammy,  fur  baitin'  a 
Ditch  wainy-wish  man  that  had  the  gall  to  call  'im  an 
Oirish  Mick  an  a  chaw-faced  tarrier.  Tammy  tuk  a  piece 
out  av  the  Ditchman's  ear  as  big  as  a  shlab  av  gooseburry 
poie,  an',  begorry,  Oi'm  afraid  it'll  p'ison  him,  as  the 
danged  little  rascal  swallied  id.  Annyways,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  Oi  ped  the  foine  an'  gev  the  coort  me  curse  fur  pun- 
ishin'  the  b'y,  an'  d'ye  know  fwhat  he  towld  me  fwhin  he 
got  home  ?  He'd  no  sooner  nor  got  into  the  house  than  he 
began  to  make  foon  av  Toozy's  beaby's  red  hair.  'Laive  the 
kid  alone,  Tammy,'  sez  Oi,  'fur  it's  not  to  blame  fur  the 
color  av  its  hair,'  sez  Oi.  'No,'  sez  he,  T)ut  it's  the  fau't  av 
thim  that  don't  change  the  color  av  id's  hair.  Aff  some  one 
id  done  somethin'  fur  me  fwhin  Oi  was  a  goslin,'  sez  he, 
Oi'd  not  be  goin'  around  now,'  sez  he,  Vud  a  nob  an  me 
loike  a  comejin's  wig,'  sez  he.  'Arrah,  fwhat  kin  we  do  wid 
it,  Tammy?'  sez  Oi.  'Hub  the  top  av  ids  head  wud  horse 
radish,'  sez  he.  'Begorry,  Oi'll  thry  id,'  sez  Oi ;  so  off  Oi 
sinds  Tammy  to  the  groc'ry  an'  back  he  brings  a  horse- 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  93 

radish  that  soize,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  An'  lo  an'  behold 
ye,  me  frind,  fwhat  diz  Oi  do  but  cuts  the  horseradish  in 
two  an'  rubs  the  top  av  the  choild's  head  wud  id.  Well, 
insoide  av  a  minut  the  kid  begin  th'  most  unairthly  bawlin'. 
'Fwhat's  the  matther  wud  id?'  sez  Oi.  'The  horseradish 
is  burnin'  id/  sez  Tammy.  'Is  that  so  ?'  sez  Oi ;  'f why  didn't 
ye  tell  me  id  'ud  burn  the  child's  head?'  sez  Oi.  *Because 
ye  nuver  axed  me/  sez  Tammy,  an'  aff  he  rin  wid  a  shtove 
led  flyin'  at  his  heels.  Oi  haven't  see  him  sence,  an'  Toozy's 
out  returnin'  some  informal  calls  she  has  to  make  an  her 
frinds,  an'  the  kid's  bawlin'  loike  a  shtuck  pig,  and  the 
tap  av  its  shcalp  is  as  red  as  a  bait  an'  as  tindher  as  a 
blisther;  and  now,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  fwhat  Oi  want  to 
know  is  this,  was  Tammy  foolin'  me  about  that  horse 
radish?" 


HEE  DAUGHTER'S  CHICAGO  DIVORCE. 

"An'  d'ye  know  fwhat,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 

"Fwhat,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"Me  daughther  Toozy's  jisht  afther  havin'  a  duck  fit 
about  her  divoorce." 

"An'  sure  an'  fwhat's  the  matther  wid  her  now,  Mrs. 
Magoogin  ?" 

"She  sez  it's  not  the  proper  caper,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty — 
not  comminly-fo,  as  they  say  in  the  Frinch  langwage,  me 
frind." 

"Ow!  wow!  Thin  she'll  have  to  take  the  little  Ditch- 
man  boick  an'  live  wid  him  agin,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"Yarrah,  fwhat  ar'  ye  talkin'  about,  woman  ?  Fur  f why 
wud  she  take  him  boick  ?" 

"Divil  a  wan  av  me  knows,  acushla,  but  Oi  thought  ye 
sed  there  was  somethin'  ailin'  the  divoorce  paper." 


94  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

"It  wasn't  me  sed  it,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  the  Widow 
remarked,  emphatically.  "It  wasn't  me  sed  id.  'Twas 
me  daughther  Toozy,  an'  she  didn't  say  the  divoorce  wasn't 
worth  uviry  cint  av  the  two  dollars  that  Oi  ped  fur  it, 
ayther,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  fur  she  knows  betther  than  to 
say  thet  same  to  my  face,  me  frind.  It's  as  laygal  an' 
infloointial  a  divorce  as  aff  she  gev  Hinnery  a  clip  av  the 
poker  over  the  shkull  an'  sthretched  him  out  dead  there 
an  the  flyure  beyant.  But  she  have  her  shtoylish  notions, 
d'ye  moind,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  bekase  the  Foor  Hun- 
dhred  diz  surtin  things  in  surtin  ways,  she  thinks,  be  the 
hokey,  that  she  has  to  do  thim  in  the  same  way,  d'ye  un- 
dhersthand  ?  S'coiety  payple  now  goes  out  to  Dakoteo  fur 
to  be  divoorced,  an'  Toozy  sez  that's  the  shwell  loom-toom 
way  to  do  the  thing,  an'  that  a  Shecaggy  divoorce,  no  mat- 
ther  aff  id  was  written  wud  a  doimond  pin  an'  a  sheet  av 
gooldin  paper,  is  thought  no  more  av  be  the  hoigh-chooned 
an'  hoigh-falutin'  set  an  Fifth  avnoo  abov  than  an  Aist 
Broadway  marriage  certificket  or  a  Bow'ry  handbill.  An* 
dang  me  to  the  bloody  nuvers.  but  she's  mad  enoof  to  ait 
me  bekase  Oi  didn't  go  out  to  Dakoteo  to  get  her  divoorce, 
an'  God  knows  Oi  don't  know  fwhere  id  is,  nor  do  Oi  care 
nayther. 

"Oi  towld  her  she  ought  to  be  thankful  fur  gettin'  anny 
at  all,  an'  that  only  fur  me  own  foresoight  and  prisince  av 
moind,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  fwhin  Oi  was  in  Shecaggy,  divil 
the  divoorce  she'd  have  at  all,  at  all,  to  bliss  hersel'  wud 
this  day  av  our  Lord,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  But  sorra  the 
ha'p'orth  she  care  fwhat  throuble  she'd  put  her  poor  owld 
mother  to,  me  frind,  provoided  she  kud  go  to  the  Pathri- 
achs'  an'  big  Frinch  balls,  an'  see  her  name  printed  in 
the  noospapers  wud  the  Vandherbilks,  an'  Maggie  Cline, 
th'  Ashthors,  an'  the  loikes  av  thim.  She's  dying  to  be  a 
hoigh-choony,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  she's  cryin'  fit  to 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  95 

break  her  heart  an'  make  herseP  crass-eyed  fur  loife  be- 
kase  id's  not  a  fashunable  foive-hoondherd  thousand  dollar 
Dakoteo  divoorce  she  has  inshtud  av  a  noice  chape  an' 
healthy  Shecaggy  divoorce  that  diz  its  wurruk  in  the 
twinklin'  av  a  suckond,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"Yo,  he,  ho,  ho,  ho!  but  id's  a  Dakoteo  divoorce  she 
won't  want  that  Oi'll  be  afther  givin'  her  aff  she  throies 
anny  more  av  her  bam-boozKn'  an'  bully raggin'  wud  me, 
me  frind.  Oi've  shtud  enoof  av  id,  an'  I  won't  shtand 
anny  more.  She'll  ayther  be  satisfoid  wud  the  Shecaggy 
divoorce  ur  Oi'll  take  id  away  fram  her,  an'  thin  she'll  not 
be  divoorced  at  all,  an'  Ditch  Hinnery  kin  have  her  an* 
welcome  to  her  forever,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  But  d'ye 
moind  fwhat  she  sez,  me  frind?  'Oh,  mimmaw/  sez  she, 
'Oi  wanted  a  hoigh-chooned  Dakoteo  divoorse,'  she  she, 
'bekase  Oi  was  goin'  to  be  an  acthress  an  the  shtage,  mim 
maw,'  sez  she,  'an'  my  manager  wanted  to  make  a  sic-family 
ur  copy-loike  av  id,'  sez  she,  'to  pashte  up  an  the  finces 
the  same  as  they  diz  wud  serkus  bills,'  sez  she.  'Well,  the 
Shecaggy  divoorce  '11  make  a  good  enoof  sic-family  fur 
you  an'  yer  manager,'  sez  Oi.  'Oh,  no,  mimmaw,'  sez  she, 
'not  at  all !  Shecaggy  divoorces  ar'  too  common,  mim 
maw,'  sez  she.  'Common,  an'  coshtin'  two  dollars  aich?' 
sez  Oi.  'Yis,  common  as  a  D'yer  sthreet  bum,  mimmaw,' 
sez  she.  'Oi'm  railly  ashamed  av  id  mesel','  sez  she. 
'Faix  'n  thin  Oi'm  not,'  sez  Oi,  'an'  shtage  ur  no  shtage, 
it's  all  the  divoorce  ye'll  uver  get,'  sez  Oi,  'so  there's  an 
ind  to  the  argymint,  me  gay  gazella,'  sez  Oi.  She's  kickin' 
shtill  about  id,  but  as  the  man  sed  to  the  mule  fwhin  id  got 
conthrairy  an'  was  thryin'  to  poonch  holes  in  the  clouds  wud 
its  heels,  she  kin  take  id  out  in  kickin',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty ! 

"Th'  oidaya  av  her  talkin'  av  goin'  on  the  shtage  fwhin 
Oi  ped  me  foine  two  dollars  fur  thet  divoorce  fur  an  in- 
toirely  deffrint  purpose,  me  frind.  Id  was  me  intintion  to 


96  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

thry  to  make  a  lady  out  av  Toozy,  an'  a  great  lady,  too,  at 
that,  d'ye  moind,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi  was  goin'  to  have 
her  intherdooced  to  Sinytur  Hill  an'  tell  her  to  make  a 
mash  on  him.  Who  knows  but  fwhat  the  wedding  moight 
come  aff  in  the  Fwhoite  House,  as  President  Claiveland's 
did,  an'  mebbe  that  wudn't  make  Hinnery  Dinkinshpiel  an* 
his  owld  fat  boordin'-house  Ditch  rnoother  sick,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty.  Oi  was  goin'  to  have  her  set  her  cap  fur  Mare 
Van  Wyck,  but  fwhin  Oi  come  to  think  that  id's  laip  year 
an'  that  me  frind  the  Mare's  somefwhat  saft  on  mesel',  Oi 
changed  me  moind ;  an'  upon  me  wurrud  do  ye  know,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  that  Oi'm  that  foolish  an'  crazy  in  me  owld 
age  that  Oi've  begun  to  use  blyoom  av  yout'  an  me  face  an' 
colony  wather  an  me  hair,  an'  uvry  day  Oi  titivate  mesel' 
up  an'  think  av  puttin'  an  me  new  winther  bonnit  an' 
shtartin'  acrass  fur  the  City  Hall  to  ax  His  'Anner  aff  he's 
ready  an'  willin'  yet  to  make  me  his  Wishing  broide.  He 
come  near  app'intin'  me  City  Chambermaid  wanst,  inshted 
av  the  mane  crayther  he  guv  the  place  to,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  an'  he  wud  a  done  id,  too,  only  he  toult  me  it  id  be 
betther  fur  me  to  git  married  agin  an'  make  some  daycint 
man  happy.  Oi  gev  his  remarruks  little  attintion  at  the 
toime,  but  lately  Oi've  been  thinkin'  that  id  was  sayin'  wan 
wurrud  fur  me  an'  two  fur  himsel'  that  he  was  doin'.  So 
faix  'n  Oi  think  Oi'll  brace  him  wan  av  these  foine  days 
an'  ax  him  fwhether  ur  no  he'll  have  me  an'  make  me  Mrs. 
Mare  Van  Wyck,  Ushquoire.  Fwhat  do  ye  think  av  that, 
now,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 


WIDOW  MAGOOGIN.  9? 


METHUSA'S  HUSBAND  FIRED. 

"Did  ye  hear  annythin'  dhrop  lasht  noight,  Mrs.  Ma- 
Glaggerty?" 

"Oi  hurd  a  little  n'ise,  but  not  enoof  to  atthract  me  at- 
tintion  very  mooch,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Oh,  but  we  had  the  divil's  own  rooction  in  the  shanty, 
beyant.  We  foired  Hinnery,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Is  it  yer  daughther  Toozy's  husban',  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"Yis,  an'  bad  look  to  him  but  he  fought  loike  Owney 
Hinnesy  fwhin  he's  resisthin*  arresht  be  a  copper.  Mur- 
ther  an'  turf,  bit  ye  ought  to  have  seen  him,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty. 

"It  musht  a  bin  ruther  intherestin',  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Troth'n  id  was.  The  Shecaggy  divoorce  did  id,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty." 

"Oi'll  howld  ye,  it  did.  Thim  Shecaggy  shkallywags  ar* 
worse  than  th'  owld  b'y  himsel'  fur  doin'  things.  Bud  tell 
me  all  about  id,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Oi  will,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Wait  till  Oi  ketch  me 
breath,"  and  the  Widow  rested  herself  a  moment  on  the 
fence  before  she  began  her  recital.  "Oi  towlt  ye  Oi  had  the 
divoorce  put  away  noice  an'  shnug,  ye  know,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,  an'  all  we  was  waitin'  fur  was  Hinnery  to  bring 
in  his  month's  pay,  sixty  dollars,  an'  a  foine  nate  lump  of 
spondulix  it  would  have  bin,  too,  to  get  down  in  yer  hand 
at  wanst,  me  frind.  Well,  save  iz  an'  guard  iz,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,  but  didn't  we  all  sit  around  the  kitchin  table 
waitin'  fur  the  Ditch  omadhaun  until  id  was  very  near 
tin  o'clock  lasht  noight,  an'  me  wid  th'  Shecaggy  divoorce 
in  me  buzzom  ready  to  plunk  id  at  him  th'  minnit  he'd 
counted  out  his  wages,  an'  Tammy  ehtayin'  in  from  his 


98  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

play  to  shlug  the  weeny-wish,  as  he  calls  him,  aff  he  dar'd 
so  mooch  as  to  opin  his  mouth  to  say  boo.  So  there  we  sot 
keepin'  our  eyes  an  the  dure  an'  talkin'  about  the  thing  until 
th'  alarrum  clock  behoint  the  shtove  was  all  a  mosht  ready 
to  shtroike.  Toozy  was  jisht  sa}dn'  that  fwhin  she  had  a 
loose  leg  agin  she'd  marry  nawthin'  less  than  a  Rooshian 
jook  ur  a  Frinch  count,  fwhin  in  kum  th'  door  wid  a  shlam 
an'  a  bang,  an'  in  a  blissid  minnit  Hinnery  was  sprawlin' 
an  the  kitchen  flyure.  'He's  murdhered  an'  robbed,  mim,- 
maw/  sez  Toozy.  'He  has  his  dog  wid  him,'  sez  Tammy. 
'Fwhat  dog  ?  Oi  see  no  dog,'  sez  Oi.  'His  load ;  don't  ye  see 
he's  dead  to  th'  wurruld,  mudder  ?'  sez  Tammy.  'Wurra ! 
wurra !  wurra !  but  fwhat  diz  id  all  mane  ?'  sez  Oi.  'He's 
intaxicated,  mimmaw,"  sez  Tooozy.  'He's  dhrunk  as  a 
biled  owl/  sez  Tammy. 

"Wud  that  Hinnery  gev  a  groan  an'  rowled  over,  an* 
begorry  the  beer  was  runnin'  out  av  his  eyes  an'  nose,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty.  Oi  tuk  howld  av  him  an'  shuck  him,  an* 
axed  fwhere  was  his  money,  but  he  marely  grunted  an' 
rowled  over  agin.  Thin  Oi  wint  through  his  pockets,  an' 
wud  ye  moind,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  sorra  the  divil  a  cint  he 
had  but  fifteen  cints,  me  frind.  'Fwhat's  thim,  Tammy, 
me  darlint?'  sez  Oi  to  him,  showin'  him  a  handfil  av  red, 
fwhoite  an'  blyue  tickets.  He  lukt  at  thim  a  suckend,  gev 
a  long  f whistle,  an  dthin  he  sez  to  me,  sez  he:  'Mudder, 
he's  been  Gootinburged.'  'An'  fwhat's  that,  Tammy?'  sez 
Oi.  'He's  losht  all  his  money  an  the  races/  sez  he.  'Here 
ar'  the  tickits,  an'  they're  all  fur  shkoites/  sez  he. 

"Well,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  me  blud  began  to  bile  that 
quick  Oi  thought  Oi  had  a  sunsthroike  in  me  brain.  Tare 
an'  'ounds,  but  Oi  was  mad  enough  to  boite  a  piece  out  av 
the  shtove  poipe.  Th'  hot  timper  av  the  Maggoogins  wint 
coorsin'  through  me  veins  loike  a  foive-cint  dhrink  av 
fwhisky  through  a  Bow'ry  bum,  an'  aff  id  hadn't  bin  fur  me 


WIDOW  MAGOOGIN.  99 

prisince  av  moind  an'  me  fear  av  the  law  Oi  furmly  belaive 
Oi'd  have  kilt  the  little  Ditch  blackguard.  As  it  was,  Oi 
gev  him  a  kick  in  the  ribs  that  ye  kud  hear  up  above  an 
the  Brukeloine  Bridge.  It  sobered  him  up  quick  as  a  wink, 
an'  he  riz  to  his  feet  an'  throied  to  pelt  me  over  the  head 
wud  his  dinner-can.  But  Tammy  an'  Toozy  was  onto  him 
in  a  howly  minnit,  an'  fwhin  we  doomped  him  out  in  the 
back  yard  there  wasn't  a  piece  av  his  clothes  left  big  enough 
to  make  a  quilt  fur  a  mishkitty. 

"He  howled  an'  raved  an'  carried  an  loike  a  cracked  man 
fur  a  fwhoile,  an'  thin  Oi  showed  him  the  divoorce  paper, 
an'  towlt  him  to  go  home  to  his  big  fat  bologny  sassidge 
mother  an'  have  her  shtop  up  his  mouth  wud  sour  krout. 
Well,  wud  you  belaive  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  he  changed 
his  chune  immajitly,  an'  grinnin'  loike  a  sick  hoyainya,  he 
sed  he  knew  all  about  the  divoorce  an'  our  little  game  in 
connection  wud  id.  'Ye  can't  come  Paddy  over  me,'  sez 
he.  'Oi  guess  not,  sez  Con,'  sez  he  agin,  imitatin'  me  way 
av  shpakin',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  wud  that,  howl)1 
mother  av  Moses  an'  Mark  Antiny,  fwhat  diz  he  do  but  pi 
a  big  rowl  av  mooney  out  av  th'  insoide  av  his  hat  and  shake 
it  roight  undher  me  nose.  Thin  he  began  to  sing  'Oi  had 
sixty  dollars  in  me  insoide  poekid,  don't  ye  see  ?'  Well,  Oi 
med  a  lep  at  him,  an'  so  did  Tammy  an'  Toozy,  but  he  was 
off  like  a  shot,  an'  got  into  his  mother's  boordin'  house  afore 
we  kud  ketch  him.  This  mornin'  he  sint  around  wurrud 
that  he  was  goin'  to  shue  me  an'  have  me  arreshtid  fur 
peelin'  an'  aitin'  his  woife's  affections,  fwhatuver  in  th' 
name  av  common  sinse  he  manes  be  that. 

"But  id's  cur'ous  to  me  who  towld  him  about  the  She- 
caggy  divoorce,  isn't  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?  Now,  Oi  nuver 
breathed  a  wurrud  about  id  to  annybody  but  yersel',  an'  Oi 
shuppose  you  towlt  nobody  but  yer  owld  man  Jurry,  so 
f where  in  the  wurmld  kud  id  come  fram?  Don't  for  a 


IOO  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

minnit  think  that  Oi  wud  go  so  far  as  to  say  that  you  towlt 
him,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  because  ye  see  Oi  don't  know  for 
sure  that  ye  did ;  but  there  was  only  wan  way  that  it  kud 
laik  out,  an'  divil  dang  the  neighbor  av  moine  Oi'll  thrust 
agin,  my  frind,  not  aff  her  tongue  was  hangin'  out  a  yard 
long  an'  tellin'  her  a  saicrit  id  save  her  fram  the  pit  av 
purgythory. 

"Mebbe  'twas  in  the  Murkerry  paper  he  saw  id,  Mrs. 
Magoogin?  My  man  Jurry  tells  me  he  hears  that  a  man 
named  Jinkins,  or  Jinnings,  wroites  some  quare  things 
about  iz,  Mrs.  Magoogin;  loike  as  not  id's  that  way  the 
little  Ditch  haythen  got  the  hint  about  the  divoorce 
matther." 

"Perhaps  so,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  wasn't  id  a  mane 
thrick  fur  Hinnery  to  run  away  fram  iz  wud  his  month's 
wages,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  Oi  hope  that  id's  little  gud 
himsel'  an'  his  owld  shlob  av  a  mother'll  git  out  av  id,  me 
frind." 


THE  HUSBAND  WAS  IN  THE  WAY. 

"D'ye  know  what  they're  sayin'  down  on  the  Hill,  Mrs. 
Magoogin  ?"  said  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"'Dade  an'  Oi  don't,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow 
Magoogin,  "an'  the  divil  a  ha'p'orth  Oi  care  fwhat  they 
sez  ur  fwhat  they  diz,  aither." 

"No  more  diz  Oi,  Mrs.  Magoogin,"  the  frightened  neigh 
bor  replied;  "but  they're  sayin'  it  jist  as  hard,  an'  mebbe, 
the  Lord  bechune  iz  an'  harm,  thet  their  talk  id  raich  th' 
airs  o'  th'  polaice  an'  who  knows  but  somebody  might  be 
arrested  for  it,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"An'  sure,  an'  fwhat's  id  they're  sayin'  that's  so  awfully 
alarmin',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?" 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  IOI 

"They  sez — they  sez,"  answered  the  neighbor,  looking  all 
around  the  room  to  be  sure  nobody  was  near  to  hear  what 
she  said.  "They  sez,  an'  may  God  forgi'  me  fur  ever  re- 
paitin'  the  wurds,  but  they  sez  ye've  murther'd  Hinnery  an* 
kilt  him  an'  put  him  out  o'  th'  way,  Mrs.  Magoogin.  Oh, 
Oi  hope  it  isn't  thrue,  me  f rind ;  Oi  hope  it  isn't  thrue." 

"Well  thin,  ye  can  bet  yer  boots  it  isn't  thrue,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,"  said  the  Widow,  in  a  most  reassuring  voice. 
"Fwhat !  Iz  it  murdher,  Hinnery  ?  Fwhy,  the  little  yally- 
nickt  an'  cruked-legged  Ditch  sour-krout  aiter,  he  isn't 
worth  murdherin' !  Oh,  that's  it,  is  id  ?  They  don't  see 
him  aroun'  anny  more?  An'  bekase  they  don't  see  him 
aroun'  they  think  we've  kilt  him?  So  that's  id,  is  id? 
.Well,  well,  well,  well !  Who  uver  hurd  the  loikes !  An'  Oi 
shuppose  now  that  they  wants  to  know  fwhere  he  is  an* 
fwhat's  bekem  av  him.  Tell  thim,  thin,  to  lick  their  fingers 
an'  f oind  out !  Wurra,  wurra,  wurra,  but  that's  the  ways 
av  the  wurrild!  Uv'rybody  thryin'  to  moind  uv'rybody 
else's  bezness  an'  nobody's  moindin'  his  own.  Oi'll  howld 
ye  tin  dollars  ag'in'  a  rorten  ingun,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
that  there's  not  a  mother's  soon  av  a  wan  av  thim  an  the 
Hill  belyow  that  id  not  buy  a  ticket  to  the  show,  an'  buy 
id  gladly,  too,  aft3  Oi  was  to  be  hung — hanged  in  the 
mawrnin'  fur  the  murdher  av  little  Ditch  Hinnery.  To  be 
coorse  they  wud !  But,  thanks  be  to  God,  they'll  nuver  see 
the  rope  around  my  neck,  an'  surtainly  not  fur  th'  killin' 
av  a  worthless  little  shnoipe  av  a  Ditchman.  Fwhere  is  he 
thin?  Aye,  that  the  saycrit.  Fwhat  id  ye  give  to  know, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?  Nawthin'.  Well,  then  Oi'll  tell  ye,  an' 
mebbe  it'll  do  yer  h'art  good.  Hinnery's  in  Yurrup  inj'yin' 
himself,  Oi  shuppose,  but  Oi  doon't  know  fwhere  he  is,  an' 
I  care  less.  Oi  gev  him  two  hundherd  dollars  an'  towld 
him  to  make  a  tower  av  the  wurruld  wud  id.  He  was  in  the 
.way  here,  ye  know.  It  id  nuver  do  to  take  him  into  s'coi'ty, 


IO2  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

he  was  sooch  a  nath'ril  born  gawk  wid  not  an  ounce  av  sinse 
in  his  shkull ;  so  we  bawt  him  aff,  as  they  buys  aff  hoosbands 
in  s'soi'ty,  an'  that's  all  meseF  ur  me  daughther  Toozy  has 
to  do  wid  him.  The  lasht  we  hurd  from  him  he  was 
shleepin'  in  Thrafalgar  Square  in  London,  an'  he  wrote  iz 
to  sind  him  enoof  mooney  to  bring  him  home,  but  divil  a 
cint  we  sint  him,  an'  aff  he  waits  till  we  bring  him  back 
he'll  be  afther  waitin'  a  long  fwhoile.  Nuxt  Siptimmber 
Toozy's  goin'  to  get  a  divoorce.  An'  fwhin  she  gets  the 
divoorce  she'll  be  in  th'  rale  shtoyle  fur  s'soi'ty,  so  she  will. 
Won't  she,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  Ye  kin  bet  yer  eyebrows 
she  will!" 


BARNUM'S  OFFER  FOR  THE  FAMILY. 

"D'ye  know  f what,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 

"Fwhat  ?  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"Oi've  jisht  resaved  a  letther  f  m  Barrrn'm." 

"F'm  Barrrn'm,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"Oy,  f  m  Barrrn'm,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"An'  fwhat  is  he  afther  now,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"Fwhat  is  he  afther?"  said  the  Widow,  growing  red  in 
the  face,  and  very  loud  in  her  tones ;  "Oi  know  fwhat  he's 
afther,  an'  be  gorry  aff  Oi  had  a  howlt  av  him  the  divil 
another  letther  he'd  wroite,  ur  serkiss  he'd  uxhibit  his 
monkeys  in  aither,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi'm  that  mad 
thinkin'  about  himseF  an'  his  letther  than  aff  anny  wan 
was  to  crass  me  path  this  blessid  minnit  an'  say  a  wurrud 
to  me  that  Oi  kud  take  offinse  at,  the  divil  blow  me  head 
aff  but  Oi'd  biff  thim  in  th'  ogo  as  quick  as  a  wink,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty.  Now  fwhat  in  the  wurruld  d'ye  think  th' 
murdherin'  owld  thaif  wrote  to  me  about  ?  Ye'll  be  shup- 
prois'd  fwhin  ye  hear  id.  Thunder  an'  mud,  but  wasn't 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  103 


Oi  mad  fwhin  Toozy  red  it  to  me,  an'  say,  Mrs. 
gerty,  mebbe  Toozy  hersel'  wasn't  mad.  Her  face  got  as 
red  as  her  hair  —  axin'  her  pardin  fur  mintionin'  id  —  an* 
Oi  fought  she'd  have  a  fit  av  appleshexy,  an'  doie  roight 
down  dead  an  th'  flure.  Well,  to  cut  a  long  shtory  short, 
an'  a  short  shtory  shorther,  Misthur  Barrrn'm,  havin*  hurd 
av  Toozy's  baby,  had  the  gall  to  wroite  in  to  iz  afferin'  to 
hoire  hersel'  and  mesel'  an'  the  baby  an'  pit  iz  in  th'  Zulu 
cage  at  tin  dollars  a  waik  aich.  Now  fwhat  in  th'  land  av 
the  livin'  kud  have  pit  th'  oiday'  into  Barrrn's's  head  that 
the  Magoogins  war  Zulus  ?  Oi'll  bet  a  buckit  av  beer  that 
id's  some  wan  that's  jealous  av  Toozy  ur  mesel'  that's  pled 
this  thrick  an  iz  an'  towld  Barrrn'm  that  we  war  naygurs. 
Oi  wish  Oi  kud  put  me  hand  an  th'  robbers,  an'  divil's 
bad  shkure  to  thim  but  Oi'd  be  afther  makin'  Zulus  av 
thim  in  airnist.  Tell  me  now,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  do  Oi 
luk  loike  a  Zulu?  Ur  diz  Toozy  luk  loike  a  Zulu?  Ur 
the  baby  aither  ?  To  be  coorse  not.  Nobody  in  the  wurruld 
that  had  half  an  eye  in  his  head  id  shtand  up  an'  say  that 
we  wor  Zulus.  They  doon't  grow  Zulus  in  th'  part  uv 
Oireland  that  the  Magoogins  kem  from,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
Aff  they  diz,  thin  Berdie  Magoogin  dizn't  know  it,  an* 
she's  the  very  woman  that  wud  aff  it  war  so.  An'  Zulus 
don't  talk  th'  Oirish  languidge,  aither,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
Ye  moight  say  'nobocklish'  or  'thanamondhioul'  to  thim 
an'  they'd  no  more  know  fwhat  ye  war  ialkin'  about  than 
a  yally  cat  knows  about  Christmas  toime.  Zulus  are  Zulus, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  -an'  'they  cuke  an'  ait  aich  other,  an' 
they're  as  black  as  th'  ace  of  spades.  Well,  thin,  Oi'm 
not  black,  am  Oi  now,  me  frind,  an'  ye  don't  fur  a  mlnnit 
think  Oi  kud  sit  down  to  a  mail  av  b'iled  naygur,  do  ye? 
An'  uv'rythin'  bein'  thus  an'  so,  how  in  the  name  av  glory 
kud  anny  man  av  common  sinse  wroite  to  me  ur  me  chil- 
dher  ur  gran'childher  axin'  to  hoire  iz  to  be  Zulus?  But 


104  WIDOW  MAGOOGIN. 

mebbe,  sez  you,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that  Earrrn'm's  ar'n't 
rale  Zulus  intoirely,  sez  you.  Well,  mebbe  they  ain't,  but 
that's  no  raison  fwhy  Oi  shud  be  insultid  be  a  prap'sition 
av  this  koind,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty — is  id  now,  me  frind? 
Thry  to  think  av  id,  aff  ye  kin — me  coverin'  mesel'  all  over 
wud  shtove  polish  an'  sittin  up  in  a  cage  widout  anny 
clothes  an,  wid  a  feather  shtickin'  in  me  head  loike  Yankee 
Doodle  fwhin  he  kem  to  town,  an'  a  big  club  wid  warts  an 
id  in  me  hand,  playin'  mesel'  aff  an  the  public  fur  a  Zulu 
queen  an'  goin'  all  day  long  widout  a  dhrop  av  beer  to 
wet  me  f whistle,  jisht  to  laive  the  ninnies  that  goes  to 
Barrrn'm's  serkus  have  fun  wid  me.  D'ye  think  Oi'd  uver 
to  a  hing  loike  that  ?  Not  mooch,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 


IN   PROSPERITY. 


SHE  MOVES  IN  SOCIETY. 

"Arrah,  my  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  is  that  yersel',  anj  how 
ar'  ye,  anyway?"  exclaimed  the  Widow  Magoogin,  as  she 
stepped  out  of  a  victoria  in  front  of  Mrs.  McGlaggerty's 
humble  home  the  other  morning,  and  astonished  her  former 
neighbor  with  the  rustling  of  her  voluminous  silk  dress, 
and  the  capaciousness  of  her  millinery. 

"Ow,  wow/'  said  the  neighbor,  "but  fwhat  foine  shtoyle 
ye  diz  be  af ther  pittin'  an,  Mrs.  Magoogin !  Sure  I  didn't 
know  ye  at  all,  at  all." 

"An*  fwhat's  the  raison  fwhy?"  asked  Mrs.  Magoogin, 
assuming  a  semi-bellicose  attitude  as  she  gave  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty  a  look  that  was  fraught  with  the  direst  suspicion. 

[It  may  be  well  to  state  that  Mrs.  Magoogin  got  in  on 
the  ground  floor  with  some  friends  in  the  Robert  'Emmet 
mine,  a  recent  gold  discovery  out  in  Arizona.  The  stock 
which  she  bought  for  ten  cents  a  share  went  up  to  $50, 
and  the  one  hundred  shares  that  the  widow  had  made  her 
comparathely  wealthy.  She  sold  out  at  the  highest  mar 
ket  price,  and  when  the  stock  went  down  again,  which  it 
did — to  twenty-five  cents — she  bought  in  ten  thousand 
shares,  which  are  now  worth  $110  a  share;  so  that  the 
Widow  Magoogin  is  at  the  present  writing  a  millionaire, 

.  [107] 


IO8  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

which  accounts  for  her  fine  clothes,  and  the  air  of  superior 
ity  that  she  manifested  toward  her  old  neighbor.] 

"Oh,  no  raison  at  all,  Mrs.  Magoogin,"  answered  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  rallying  her  scattered  senses.  "Only  ye  have 
such  a  grand  air  about  ye  that  it  almost  tuk  me  breath 
away." 

"Is  that  so,  now?"  said  the  Widow,  with  a  sumptuous 
sort  of  sneer.  "An*  do  ye  think  ye  kin  be  afther  makin' 
foon  av  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  bekase  Oi'm  betther  dressed 
than  ye  ar*  an'  have  big  di'mongs  in  me  airs  an'  own  me 
own  house  an'  lot  an'  kin  pay  a  naygur  wud  brass  buttons 
on  his  coat  an'  a  noice  feather  in  his  shtove-poipe  hat  f arty 
dollars  a  moonth  to  dhroive  me  victowry  an'  howld  up  the 
thrain  av  me  dhress  fwhoile  Oi'm  gittin'  into  me  carri'ge 
ur  dawg  cart?  Shame  an  ye,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  to  be  as 
invious  as  ye  ar'  av  an  owld  frind  that  lowers  her  dignity 
an'  condescin's  her  condescinsions  to  come  all  the  way  down 
here  from  Lexin'ton  avenoo  abow  to  pay  ye  a  visit — an* 
a  formal  visit  at  that,  too,  fwhich  the  bukes  av  ettikait  sez 
is  diffrunt  from  anny  other  call  in  the  cattylogue,  me  frind, 
not  barrin'  the  dinner  call  an'  callin'  fur  yer  partner's 
han'  at  euchre. 

"But,  God  help  ye,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty!  ye're  loike  all 
the  poor,  indignant  Oirish  that  hasn't  a  cint  or  a  sup. 
They're  nuver  satisfioied  anless  they're  makin'  mouths  at 
thim  that  has  more'n  thimsel's.  Bad  dang  to  thim,  but 
they  sit  an  their  boomps  av  self-consait  all  day  long  nursin' 
their  dirty  thawts,  an'  they  have  nawthin'  but  the  very 
wursht  wurrid  in  their  cheeks  fur  people  loike  meseP  that 
buys  their  tickets  fwhin  thev  raffles  aff  their  shtoves  an' 
linds  thim  quarthers  an'  half  dhollars  fwhin  they  sind 
their  barefooted  gossoons  up  to  the  house  wud  shtories  av 
hunger  an'  sufferin'  that  id  move  a  hart  of  shtone  to  tears. 
But  nuver  moind,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Oi  churish  no  hard 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  109 

feelin's  agin  yoursel'  an'  Jurry,  an'  as  Oi  sed  afore  Oi  kem 
to  pay  ye  a  call  unbeknownst  to  Toozy  ur  Hinnery  ur  any 
av  our  gang — pardin  the  mishtake,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty — I 
main  the  mim'ers  av  our  set  an'  not  our  gang.  To  tell 
the  throoth,  me  frind,  Oi  thawt  Oi'd  like  to  submerge 
mysel'  out  fram  the  brelliance  av  the  hoigh  s'soiety  in 
f which  we  now  move,  an'  take  a  rin  down  to  the  owld 
place  to  see  how  a  can  av  beer  id  go  together.  Do  ye  know 
that  uv'rythin'  up  our  way  is  got  to  be  so  sarkumspeck 
that  Oi  can't  get  so  mooch  as  a  thim'leful  av  annythin' 
to  wet  me  lips  wid,  widout  concurrin'  the  inmity  an'  hos 
tility  av  aivin  me  own  sarvint  gerruls. 

"Wud  ye  moind,  alanna,  goin'  to  the  corner  beyant  an' 
tellin'  the  Ditchman  to  fill  up  the  booket,  as  Oi'm  exthry- 
ordhinariraly  dhry,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi'd  ax  the  nay- 
gur  out  in  the  victowry,  but  he'd  go  to  Mrs.  Paran  Stevens' 
coachman  an'  tell  him  about  id,  an'  Mrs.  Stevens'  coachman 
id  tell  Mrs.  James  Bog  Throtther's  butler,  an'  both  av  thim 
id  shpread  the  eppydimic  an  Murry  Hill,  an'  insoide  av 
twinty-foive  hours  there  id  be  a  shkandal  an'  a  sinsation 
that  id  shake  s'ciety  to  its  very  cinther  an'  cumsumption- 
rince.  Oh,  my,  but  s'ciety's  a  tumble  thing,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty.  A  rale  s'ciety  woman  has  a  harder  toime  av  it 
than  a  washerwoman.  Fwhin  Oi  ushed  to  shcrub — arrah 
my !  but  f  what  'm  Oi  sayin'  now  ?  Aff  Toozy  was  only 
to  hear  me  she'd  murther  me  shtan'in'  up.  Oi  was  goin' 
to  say,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that  afore  Oi  inther'd  s'soiety — 
med  me  debutt,  as  they  sez  in  Frinch — Oi  thawt  the  upper 
tins  had  a  sawft  thing  av  it,  but  Oi've  found  out  me 
mishtake,  me  frind.  Jisht  now  Oi'm  preparin'  mesel' 
fur  the  saison,  an'  in  a  waik  ur  two  Oi'll  be  flitthin' 
about  loike  a  buttherfloi  in  a  glass  case.  An'  fur  fwhat 
and  fur  fwhy,  d'ye  know?  Fur  nawthin',  jusht  mairly, 
simply  nawthin'.  An'  divil  a  tint  av  beer  they  haves 


110  WIDOW  MAGOOGIN. 

in  s'soiety,  me  frind;  not  as  much  as  id  wet  the  tail 
feathers  of  a  floy.  Oh,  my,  but  it's  nonsinse,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty,  poundin'  brass  an'  sinklin'  tmybals,  as  the  play 
acthors  sez,  an'  not  a  ha'p'orth  more.  Faix  'n  Oi'm  toired 
av  it,  bechuxt  oursel's,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  bein'  in  the 
shwim  there's  nawthin'  to  do  but  floundher  around  ur  get 
dhrownded.  An'  at  the  prisint  toime  Oi'm  in  the  throes 
of  bavin'  me  twoilites  prepared.  But  say,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  don't  furgit  the  lager,  an'  go  out  the  back  alley, 
the  way  me  black  Jayhu,  Periclays,  won't  see  you." 


EAFFLE  FOR  A  GOAT  AT  THE  VANDERBILT'S. 

"Ah,  ha !  but  ye  missed  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 

"Fwhat's  that,  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 

"Th'  raffle  at  the  Vandherbilts'." 

"Yis,  Jurry  was  sick,  as  ye  know,  an'  Oi  kudn't  laive 
him.  He  dhrank  somethin'  at  th'  dago's,  bad  look  to  him 
fur  a  yally-nickt  Oytalyan,  an'  th'  poor  man  had  a  taste 
of  the  horrors,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Ora,  my,  but  id's  too  bad  intoirely,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Oi  was  sarry — " 

"Yis,  an'  ye'll  be  sarrier,  mavourneen,  fwhin  ye  hear 
th'  foon  we  han,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow.  "Oi 
sint  ye  a  ticket,  so  ye  have  nobody  to  blame  but  yersel',  me 
frind.  Oh,  but  id  was  th'  very  hoigh-chunedest  raffle  Oi 
was  uver  at  in  me  loife,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Talk  about 
th'  O'Toole's  party  an'  the  red  toidies  an  th'  chairs,  an' 
th'  lace  curtains  an  th'  windies,  an'  th'  flyowry  carpits, 
an'  th'  cinther  table,  an'  th'  photygraft  albums  an  id, 
jisht  loike  th'  parlors  ye  see  in  thim  great  plays  in  the 
Bow'ry  belyow,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  'twasn't  in  id  at  all, 
fwhin  id  come  to  th'  shplindiferousness  av  th*  raffle  th' 


WIDOW  MAGOOGIN.  Ill 

.Vandherbilks  gev  in  banner  av  th'  coomin'  out  in  polly- 
ticks  av  their  son-in-law,  Kurnel  Shepard — Kurnel  Sheep's- 
eyes,  Oi  calls  him.  Don't  ax  me  to  deshcroibe  it,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty.  Wumids  is  too  synominous  to  express  id. 
Wan  av  th'  Mail  an'  Express  waggins  kudn't  do  it,  me 
frind. 

"May  th'  divil  pull  th  'liver  out  av  me,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  aff  id  wasn't  th'  foinest  house  Oi've  uver  bin  in, 
an'  Oi've  been  in  suv'ril  very  noice  houses  in  me  loifetoime, 
aff  Oi  do  say  it  meself,  me  frind.  There  was  goold  an' 
silver  an'  velvet  an'  laces  an'  rubies  an'  doimongs,  an' 
God  only  knows  f what  else,  an'  wow,  wow ! — but  ye  ought 
to  see  th'  s'soiety  ladies  wud  their  powdher  an'  paint  an — 
an'  their  dhresses  opin  down  to  here" — indicating  a  line 
along  the  lower  ribs.  "By  gorries,  Oi  thawt  they  ought 
to  bin  ashamed  av  thimsePs,  but  divil  a  wan  av  thim 
thawt  anny  more  about  id  than  Oi  did  av  th'  little  red 
shawl  Oi  had  around  me  nick,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Aff 
Oi  was  to  dhress  mesel'  that  way,  me  frind,  Oi'd  be  afther 
blishin'  all  over,  an'  upan  me  wurrud  Oi  belaive  Oi'd  sink 
through  the  flure.  None  av  the  Churrv  Hillers  uver 

o  fj 

dhresht  that  way.  There  was  me  an'  Mrs.  Malown,  an' 
Mrs.  Gooldin,  an'  Mrs.  Gollogher,  an'  Mrs.  Brady,  an* 
Mrs.  Hammershtein,  an'  Mrs.  Shannigin,  an'  Mrs.  Brady, 
an'  Mrs.  Lacy,  an' — an'  uv'rybody  else,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
We  were  all  inwoitid  reg'larly  be  posht-hole  cards  that  the 
letther  carriers  brung  iz,  an'  fwhin  we  got  there  they  gev  iz 
a  grand  rayception,  so  they  did,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"Th'  Kurnel  knoo'd  me  roight  away,  an'  sez  he  to  me, 
sez  he,  afther  Oi  had  a  foight  wud  a  floonkey  in  short  pants 
at  th'  dure  that  didn't  want  to  let  me  in  bekase  he  sed  Oi 
had  a  roight  to  get  shaved  afore  Oi  come.  'Walk  roight 
in,  Mrs.  Magoogm,'  sez  he,  'Mrs.  Vandherbilt  '11  be  glad 
to  see  ye,'  sez  he.  'Thank  ye,  Kurnel,'  sez  Oi,  taking  him 


112  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

be  the  lily-fwhoite  hand,  'but  laive  me  give  that  joompirr 
Jack  at  the  dure  a  tashte  av  me  fut  an'  Oi'll  feel  betther 
fur  id/  sez  Oi.  'Oh,  nuver  moind  him/  sez  he,  'Oi'll 
discharge  him  in  th'  mawrnin'/  sez  he.  'All  roight/  sez 
Oi,  an'  wud  that  in  Oi  wint.  Be  all  that's  great  an' 
holy,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  id  was  a  soight  to  see  th'  way 
thim  rooms  shoined.  Oh,  gorries !  but  id  was  that  bright 
Oi  towld  th'  Kurnel  Oi  was  afreed  Oi'd  be  sun-shtrook 
be  th'  electhric  loights.  Oi  towld  ye  who  was  there,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  but  Oi  didn't  tell  ye  that  me  daughther 
Toozy  shted  at  home  bekase  she  has  a  shpoite  agin  th' 
Vandherbilts  fur  somethin'  ur  other  an'  won't  talk  to 
thim,  an*  Tommy  wudn't  go  bekase  he  said  sossoi'ty  payple 
don't  get  enoof  to  ait.  But  Oi  was  there,  don't  ye  furget 
id,  an'  aitin'  ur  no  aitin',  ye  kin  bet  ye're  loife  Oi  inj'yed 
mesel'.  We  all  sot  round  in  a  row  lukin'  at  aich  other 
fur  a  long  fwhoile  an'  Oi  hurd  wan  av  thim  dollykit- 
wearin'  gerruls  sayin'  koind  av  toired  an'  soighin'  loike, 
'Oh,  my,  but  Oi  wish  they'd  begin  talkin'  Oirish.  Oi 
wud  so  love  to  hear  thim  talk  Oirish/  sez  she.  'Fwhat's 
th'  matther  wud  talkin'  a  little  Ditch,  ma'am?'  sez  Oi. 
'Oh,  no/  sez  she,  shruggin'  her  shouldhers.  'Oi  loike 
Oirish/  sez  she.  'All  right,  thin/  sez  Oi.  'Thaw  shay 
thiggin  thu,  the  wallaga  th'  onamondhiaoul,  fag  a  ballah, 
nabockalish  shin!  An'  how  diz  that  shoot  ye,  ma'am?' 
sez  Oi.  'An'  is  that  Oirish?'  sez  she.  'Troth  'n  id  is, 
ma'am/  sez  Oi.  'Oi  wudn't  a  know'd  id/  sez  she,  an'  she 
seemed  so  sarry. 

"Tim  Shaughnissy  was  th'  only  man  fram  the  Hill 
that  wint  to  th'  raffle.  He  had  his  fwhiskers  naitly 
thrimmed  an'  a  blyue  shpeckled  nick-toie  an,  an'  oh,  but 
maybe  the  gerruls  didn't  take  a  shoine  to  him.  They 
ehuck  th'  joods,  so  they  did,  an'  med  up  to  Tim  loike  he 
was  th'  only  man  an  th'  primises.  Be  gorry,  but  Tim 


WIDOW  MAGOOGIN.  1 13 

was  in  clover.  About  tin  o'clock  th'  Kurnel's  jumpin' 
jack  kem  in  an'  axed  iz  fwhat  we'd  have  to  wet  our  f whis 
tles.  'Bring  me  a  little  poort  woine  aff  ye  plaise,'  sez  Oi. 
'Moind  out,  Mrs.  Magoogin/  the  Kurnel  sez,  sez  he,  'that 
ye  doont  get  a  shkoite  an/  sez  he.  'Sure'n  Oi  have  no 
shkoites  to  pit  an,  sor,'  sez  Oi.  'Don't  get  full/  sez  he. 
'Oh,  Oi  see/  sez  Oi,  an'  Oi  tipt  him  a  wink  that  he  undher- 
shtud  very  well.  The  Kurnel  sot  by  me  all  noight.  He 
sed  that  fwhin  he  was  med  Mare  av  Noo  Yarrick  that  he'd 
make  me  th'  janithor  av  th'  City  Hall.  'An'  fwhin  '11 
that  me,  Kurnel,  acushla?'  sez  Oi.  'Sune,  Berdie,  sune/ 
sez  he,  an'  thin  we  talked  pollyticks,  an'  he  towld  me  how 
he  loved  Oireland  an'  hoped  th'  Oirish  id  all  wote  fur  him 
fwhin  th'  time  comes.  He  talked  that  way,  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty,  antil  id  was  hoigh  toime  fur  th'  raffle.  Oi  had  noine 
shlugs  av  poort  woine  in  me  an'  was  feelin'  loike  a  burd 
fwhin  they  ax'd  me  fur  a  song  an'  Oi  gev  them  wan  av 
me  own  to  th'  chune  av  'Annie  Rooney.'  This  is  th'  way 
id  wint: 

Fwhere's  my  cough  dhraps, 
Oi've  a  cowld — 

Oi'll  be  dead 

Afore  Oi'm  owld, 

iWurra !  wurra ! 
Oi'm  disthresht, 

Fur  Oi've  th'  pneumooney 
An  me  chesht ! 

That's  part  av  id.  The  resht  Oi  left  at  th'  Vandherbilts' 
house  up  an  Fift'  avenyoo  abow.  Oi'd  a  brung  id  wud  me, 
but  Tim  Shaughnissy  axed  Kurnel  Sheep's-eyes  to  see  th' 
eight-day  goat  that  wuz  to  be  raffled.  Bein'  as  id  wasn't 
to  be  seen  annyfwhere  in  the  parlor  Tom  thawt  mebbe 
id  was  a  shtiff  the  Vandherbilts  war  givin'  iz,  an' 


114  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

he  ax'd  to  see  th'  goat.  Kurnel  Sheep's-eyes  sed  th'  goat 
wuz  grazin'  up  in  Harlim,  an*  th'  lady  ur  gintlemin  that 
won  him  id  be  givin'  a  paice  av  wroitin'  to  get  him  wud. 
That  didn't  satisfoy  Tim,  but  fwhat  kud  he  do?  Bate 
th'  man  in  his  own  house?  To  be  course  not,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty.  So  we  thrun  fur  th'  goat.  Oi  garry,  Oi  be- 
laive  the  doices  war  loaded,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  fur  didn't 
Oi  throw  forty-foives,  an'  sure  an'  didn't  Mrs.  Ogdin,  ur 
Salt  Lake,  Goolet,  fwhativer  her  name  iz — but  she's  Kur 
nel  Sheep's-eye's  sisther-in-law  anny  way — go  an'  throw 
forty-eights.  'Who  gets  the  goat?'  sez  Oi.  'Oi  diz,'  sez 
Mrs.  Goolet.  'Thin  bad  look  to  th'  doices,  but  somebody 
must  have  bewitched  thim,'  sez  Oi — Oi  didn't  want  to  say 
they  war  loaded,  d'ye  see,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  ur  there 
moight  have  bin  a  foight  about  id,  an'  that  id  dishgrace 
Churry  Hill,  d'ye  moind.  So  Oi  sed  no  more,  but  tellin* 
the  Kurnel  that  Oi  wisht  him  j'y  wud  his  goat,  Oi  tuk 
another  pull  at  the  poort  woine  an'  we  all  wint  home. 

"Av  coorse  Mrs.  Goolet  gev  back  th'  goat,  an'  bechuxt 
you  an'  me  an'  the  gateposht,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  divil 
th'  goat  at  all  there  was  in  id.  Sure  'n  haven't  Oi  manny 
and  manny's  the  toime  raffled  off  things  Oi  didn't  have 
meseP  in  the  same  way,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  sorra  th* 
wan  wuz  th'  worser  av  id.  Kurnel  Sheep's-eyes  jisht 
wanted  to  give  iz  some  fun  en'  he  gev  id  to  iz.  We  had 
a  good  toime  at  his  uxpinse  an'  fwhin  he  runs  fur  Mare 
Churry  Hill  '11  be  up  an'  fur  him  to  a  man.  He  thrated 
th'  widdies  moighty  nice,  now,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  he 
desarves  to  be  elected,  goat  ur  no  goat,  raffle  ur  no  raffle. 
His  poort  woine  is  as  foine  as  anny  ye'd  get  in  th'  grocery 
beyant,  an'  Oi'll  howld  ye  annythin'  ye  want  id  coshts  him 
as  mooch  as  a  dollar  a  gallon.  Oh,  but  thim  big  bugs  has 
th'  foine  toimes  intoirely,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  1" 


WIDOW  MAGOOGIN.  115 


A  LOOK  AT  MES.  McGLAGGERTY'S  GOAT. 

"Ora,  my,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !"  said  the  Widow,  heaving 
a  heavy  sigh  as  she  lifted  her  velvet  skirt  from  the  floor 
and  took  a  seat  in  her  former  neighbor's  kitchen,  "ora, 
my,  but  Oi  don't  undhershtan'  how  ye  kin  live  in  such  a 
place,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Oh,  ye  don't,  don't  ye?"  said  the  neighbor;  "an*  mebbe 
ye  didn't  live  in  the  same  kind  o'  a  place  yerself — an'  a 
worse  place  it  war,  too,  be  gorry — over  in  the  g©at  pin  be- 
yant." 

"Tut,  tut,  tut,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow; 
"don't  let  anny  wan  uver  hear  ye  sayin'  Oi  lived  in  a 
goat  pin,  me  frind." 

"An'  f why  not?" 

"Bekase  Oi'm  in  s'soi'ty  now,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  was 
the  response.  "An  fwhin  ye're  wansf  in  s'coi'ty,  alanna, 
the  rules  av  aitikait  requoire  that  ye  musht  furget  that 
ye  war  wanst  poor.  So  don't  moind  me,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  aff  me  tongue  shlips  now  an'  thin  an'  Oi  say  a  wurrid 
or  two  that  may  offind  ye,  fur  whinuver  Oi  diz,  me  frind, 
ye  kin  make  up  yer  moind  that  it's  only  forgetfulness,  an* 
that  it's  thinkin'  Oi  am  that  it's  talkin'  to  Mrs.  Vandher- 
bilt  or  Mrs.  Ashtor  or  Mrs.  Goelet  that  Oi  diz  be,  wid 
Toozy  at  me  elbow  nidgin'  and  pinchin'  me  fwhinuver  Oi 
comes  near  puttin'  me  fut  in  id.  An'  it's  manny's  the 
nidge  an'  pinch  Oi  gets,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Wan  noight 
Oi  wint  to  a  swarray  chantant  at  Mrs.  Ponsonby  de  Goose- 
nick's,  an'  wud  ye  belaive  id,  but  fwhin  the  hoshtleress — " 

"Who's  that  ?"  the  neighbor  inquired. 

"The  hoshtleress?  Fwhy,  that's  the  lady  that  gev  the 
shindy — the  dance,  I  mane,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty — fwhin  she 


Il6  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

tuk  me  be  the  hand  to  inter jooce  me  to  a  gintleman,  wud 
ye  belaive  it,  she  ron  me  shlap  bang  up  agin  a  Foorth 
av'noo  shoe  shtore  dark  who  ushed  to  see  me  shcrubbin' 
the  flure  av  the  shtore  uv'ry  Winsda'  mawrnin'.  'Misthur 
Waxnose/  sez  she,  'Madame  Meguginne ;  an'  f what  diz  the 
brown-fwhisker'd  jood  do  but  up  an'  sez,  as  he  shmoiled 
like  an  eight-day  carpse,  'Aw,  pawdon  me,  Madame  Megu- 
guinne,'  sez  he,  'but  hawven't  Oi  had  the  pleashaw  av 
maitin'  ye  afo'aw?'  'Poorkwaw,'  sez  Oi,  usin'  me  Frinch 
wid  him — 'poorkwaw'  is  Frinch  fur  p'raps,  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty — an'  as  the  divil  a  wurrid  av  Frinch  the  poor  shoe 
dark  knowed  his  poipes  was  froze,  as  my  Tammy  sez,  an* 
sorra  the  nother  thing  he  had  to  say.  But,  tell  me,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  f  what's  become  av  the  goat  ?" 

"There  it  is  out  in  the  yard." 

"Faix  'n  so  it  is,"  said  the  Widow,  going  to  the  window 
and  peeping  out ;  "Poor  Billy — his  f  whiskers  luks  as  nat 
ural  as  uver,  an'  he's  aitin'  a  piece  av  b'iler  iron  wud  as  gud 
an  appetoite  as  Oi  uver  saw.  Diz  he  miss  me,  at  all,  at 
all,  Oi  don't  know?  I  suppose  not,  but  it's  the  way  of 
the  wurrild.  We're  forgotten  as  soon  as  we're  out  av 
soight.  Oi'd  loike  to  take  me  poor  goat  up  to  Mat'son 
avenue  wud  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  loike  Mary's  lamb 
it's  agin  the  rools.  S'soi'ty  hasn't  med  goats  fashionable 
yet,  but  mebbe  it  will  some  av  these  foine  days,  an'  aff  uver 
it  diz  Oi'll  be  afther  thrublin'  ye  to  give  me  back  Billy, 
an'  Oi'll  put  a  brass  collar  an'  a  goold  chain  about  his  nick 
an'  a  plish  crazy  quilt  on  his  back,  an'  aff  there's  a  foiner 
goat  in  all  New  Yorruk  city  Oi'll  ait  corned  beef  an'  cab 
bage  agin,  so  Oi  will,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  But  fwhisper, 
me  frind,  is  there  annythin'  ailin'  the  crayther?  Oi  wuz 
afeard  there  moight  be  somethin'  the  matther  wud  him, 
for  Toozy  dhruv  round  this  way  in  her  tay  cart,  the  other 
day,  an'  she  towld  me  she  saw  the  goat.  'The  wind  wuz 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

blowin'  through  his  fwiskers,'  sez  she,  an'  that's  all  Oi  kud 
get  out  av  her.  It's  to  foind  out  about  the  goat  as  mooch 
as  aimythin'  ilse,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that  brought  me  down 
here  to  see  ye,  me  frind,  an'  tell  me  the  trooth,  now,  did 
ye  uver  see  anny  wind  blowin'  through  his  fwhishkers? 
Av  coorse  not.  Oi  thawt  that  gerrul  wuz  lyin'  to  me. 
Poor  Billy !  Oi'd  go  out  in  the  yard  an'  kiss  him,  but  me 
black  coachman,  Perkilays,  id  see  me  an'  give  me  the  razoo 
all  over  Mat'son  avenoo." 


AFTER  THE  FRECH  BALL. 

"Toozy,  me  daughter,"  said  the  Widow  Magoogin,  lifting 
her  distended  head  from  her  damask  couch. 

"Well,  mimmaw,"  responded  the  daughter. 

"Is  there  a  dhrap  av  wather  in  the  house,  Toozy  ?" 

"Yes,  mimmaw." 

"An'  anny  floppooed  oice,  Toozy?" 

"Frapped,  mimmaw." 

"Frapped  ur  f  rappooed,  me  darlint,  aff  id's  an  the  prim- 
ises  gimme  a  bowl  av  id,  fur  me  head  is  bushtin'." 

"I  told  you  so,  mimmaw,"  said  Arethusa,  laughing. 

"Ye  towld  me  fwhat,  Toozy?" 

"That  you'd  be  sorry  when  you  were  sober,  mimmaw." 

"Troth  'n  ye  towld  me  the  throoth,  me  daughther,"  said 
the  Widow,  with  a  groan;  "yurra,  wurra  my,  but  fwhy 
didn't  Mare  Van  Wyck  pit  a  shtop  to  that  Frinch  ball  an' 
pervint  it  fram  evintuating'  at  all,  at  all,  as  Mrs.  G-oalets 
wud  say.  How  did  Oi  get  home,  Toozy?  Who  brung  me 
to  the  dure  an'  foired  me  in?  Was  id  in  me  own  coop, 
me  daughter,  or  was  id  in  a  han'  cart  Oi  kem  to  me  dom- 


Il8  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

mysoil  this  mawrnin'  b'ilin',  an'  wid  me  byootiful  pheasant 
dhress  fluttherin'  in  the  blizzard  ?" 

"You  came  home  in  your  own  coupe,  mimmaw,"  an 
swered  the  daughter. 

"Oh,  Oi  did,  did  Oi,"  said  the  Widow,  with  a  new-fash 
ioned  moan;  "well,  Oi'm  glad  av  that,  Toozy,  fur  it'll 
save  iz  a  grait  dail  av  shcandaloizin'  intoirely.  Oh,  but 
Oi'm  glad  Oi'm  aloive  this  blessid  mawrnin'  afther  the 
shlathers  of  shampagny  mesel'  an'  Hair  Wienybowwowshky 
desthr'yed  at  the  ball  lash'  noight.  'Who  was  that  was  in 
the  box  wid  iz,  Toozy  ?  Divil  a  wan  av  me  knows  anny  wan 
av  thim  savin*  his  fwhishkers  Hair  Wienybowwowshky. 
Ow,  wow,  but  fwhat  a  toime  we  had — me  head's  the  soize 
av  a  wather  bucket  this  mawrnin' — an'  me  throat — oh,  me 
throat's  that  hot  an'  burnin'  that  id  makes  me  feel  as  aff 
Oi  nuver  seen  a  dhrap  av  wather  in  me  loife.  Oh,  aff  Oi 
only  had  me  mout'  undher  £he  hoydrint,  Oi'm  thinkin'  Oi'd 
dhrink  uv'ry  dhrop  in  th'  aqueduck  afore  Oi'd  laive  off. 
Shampagny's  a  tumble  head  bushter,  so  id  is,  Toozy !  An* 
id's  a  pockit  bushter,  too,  me  daughter !  Be  gorry,  d'ye 
know  that  Hair  Wienybowwowshky  forgot  to  pay  fur  the 
woine,  an'  dang  his  Eoosian  buttons  but  Oi  had  to  fork 
over  the  money  mesel'.  But  Hair  Wieny  towld  me  Oi  lukt 
so  noice  in  me  coshtoom.  Oi  shuppose  Oi  did,  Toozy.. 
Oi  wish  the  McGlaggertys  kud  have  seen  me !  Ow,  but 
Oi  musht  have  med  the  b'ys  h'arts  lep  fwhin  they  clapt 
their  eyes  an  me !  But  oh,  my — me  head's  bushtin'  wud 
the  hait  an'  me  throat's  crackin  wud  the  drooth.  Hurry, 
Toozy,  wud  the  flappooed  oice  wather !  Give  me  enoof  av 
it  to  dhrown  mesel'  in  id.  Urra  wurra!  wurra!  wurra! 
but  id's  a  long  toime  agin  afore  Oill  be  found  at  a  Frinch 
ball  dhrinkin'  shampagny  wud  a  hairy  Roosian,  an'  layin' 
up  a  shtore  av  sarry  fur  messel'  loike  that  Oi'm  nursin'  this 
blessid  mawrnin'." 


WIDOW  MAGOOGIN.  119 


THE  NEW  WALK. 

''Ora  my,  but  id's  me  that's  toired  out,  this  blessid  day, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Faix  'n  ye  luk  toired,  Mrs.  Magoogin.  Fwhat  toired 
ye?" 

"Oi  was  out  shoppin'  wud  Mrs.  Vanderbilt,"  said  the 
Widow,  tossing  her  Titianesque  head  nonchalantly,  "an* 
bad  sesht  to  me  but  we  wint  uv'ryfwhere  an'  saw  uv'rythin', 
and  bowt  nothin'  an'  had  the  divil's  own  toime  av  id  in- 
toirely.  D'ye  moind,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  id's  not  the  dish- 
tance  we  walked  or  the  guff  we  gev  the  dhry  goods  clerks 
that  gev  iz  the  dose  av  latitood,  as  my  Toozy  sez,  f whin  she 
wants  to  express  wariness  be  usin'  a  big  noo  wurrud  that 
nobody  knoos  the  mainin'  av,  but  id's  th'  shtoylish  shtoyle 
av  walkin'  that  the  ladies  do  be  afther  havin',  that  pit  me 
roight  hip  out  av  j'int  an'  wrinch'd  the  muscles  av  me 
boick,  antil  O'im  achin'  all  over  loike  a  purson  that's  bin 
thrun  down  tin  floights  av  shtairs  an'  nuver  missed  a  wan 
av  thim  in  comin'  down..  Be  the  tail  av  Paddy  Hara's 
goat,  but  Oi'm  thinkin'  that  that  noo  walk  '11  be  the  death 
av  me  av  id  lashts  mooch  longer.  Did  ye  uver  see  id,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty?  Well,  this  is  id:  Ye  shwing  yer  roight 
leg  around  as  aff  ye  war  goin'  to  turn  suddintly  into  wan 
av  thim  coffee  shanties  they  have  in  Paris  fur  a  shmall 
mug  av  beer  fwhin  nobody's  lukin'  at  ye,  an'  thin  ye  shrug 
up  yer  roight  showldher  an'  shtick  up  yer  shnout,  an'  poke 
out  yer  roight  elbow,  an'1  iisht  fwhin  uv'rybody  thinks 
ye're  goin'  to  fwhishk  yer  shkurts-  around  an'  give  thim  a 
gintail  razzle-dazzle,  ye  kum  up  short-legged  loike  wud  th' 
other  fut  an'  go  roight  straight  along.  Id's  the  foinest 
jwalk  ye  uver  saw,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  only,  Oi  shprained 


I2O  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

the  muscles  av  me  boick  Oi'd  show  id  to  ye  an'  let  ye  have 
a  laugh  at  id.  Oi  calls  it  the  hoigh-chuned  wiggle  waggle, 
but  my  Tammy  sez  id's  th'  chippy  fits  an'  that  the  gerruls 
down  in  the  Bow'ry  belyow  have  had  the  same  soort  av 
shpasms  fur  th'  lasht  six  moonths.  Id's  all  the  shtoyle 
now  an  Fifth  av'noo  an'  Broadway;  but,  be  gorra,  id's 
too  much  shtoyle  fur  Birdie  Magoogin,  fur  Oi'm  afeert  id  '11 
bring  an  the  sunburnt  shpoiril  maginnities.  Mrs.  Van- 
derbilt  wanted  me  to  go  callin'  wud  her  to-morry,  but  me 
leg's  that  lame  Oi  had  to  sind  her  a  silver  plate  card,  as 
they  calls  it  in  Frinch,  axing  her  to  ushcuse  me  an'  Oi'd 
be  uver  so  mooch  abloiged  to  her;  an'  she  did  so,  tooty- 
frooty,  which  is  also  Frinch,  me  frind,  an'  mains  imma- 
jitly  aff  not  suner.  Oh,  yes,  Oi'm  flyin'  very  hoigh  at 
prisint,  so  Oi  am,  Mrs.  Magoogin,  an'  Oi  shuppose  Oi'll 
soon  be  havin'  me  name  in  th'  noospapers  wudout  gettin* 
arreshtid  to  have  it  done.  Don't  ye  think  so  now,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty?" 


THE  FRENCH  PEOFESSOR. 

"Musha,  an'  my  sweet  bad  luk  to  him !"  said  the  Widow 
Magoogin  with  a  good  deal  of  feeling  in  her  words. 

"Who  are  you  talking  about  now,  mimmaw?"  asked  her 
daughter,  Arethusa. 

'^Who'm  Oi  talkin'  about  is  id.?"  said  the  Madam. 
"Who  d'ye  shuppose  Oi'm  talkin'  about?  Who  but  that 
curly  mushtached  divil  av  a  purfeshor  that  purtinds  to  be 
taichin'  Frinch,  but  who  railly  comes  here,  Oi've  not  the 
laist  bit  av  doubt,  to  be  cuttin'  up  his  doidoes  an'  makin' 
love  to  yer  mother  bekase  she's  rich  an'  well  aff.  Fwhat 
diz  the  consulted  bolly-booin'  monkey  do  to-day  but  tell 


WIDOW  MAGOOGIN.  121 

me  that  Oi  ought  to  shtudy  Vollypewk,  so  that  he'd  be 
able  to  andershtand  me  fwhin  he  kern  to  shpark  me. 
Moind,  he  didn't  say  shpark ;  f what  he  sed  was  to  give  me 
me  lessins,  but  he  meant  shparkin'  all  the  same,  the  cute 
rashkil,  an'  he  can't  desaive  Berdie  Magoogin,  aff  he  was 
tin  toimes  the  Frinchman  that  he  is,  Toozy.  'An'  fwhat's 
Vollypewk,  Longtongs?'  sez  Oi.  'Oh,  id's  the  universal 
langwidge,'  sez  he.  'An'  how  d'ye  shpake  id?'  sez  Oi. 
'Wiz  ze  mout,'  sez  he,  throyin'  to  be  foonny.  'Aw,  but/ 
sez  Oi,  'f what  diz  id  sound  loike  ?'  sez  Oi.  An'  thin  he  gev 
me  a  spaycimint,  rattlin'  aff  a  yard  av  horse  talk  that  id 
make  a  mule  sick.  'Say  no  more,'  sez  Oi,  puttin'  the 
koibosh  an  to  'im;  'say  no  more,'  sez  Oi,  bein'  as  Oi  was 
an  to  id,  'Id's  Ditch,  an'  we've  had  enoof  av  Ditch  in  the 
fam'ly  widout  yer  jawbreakin'  Vollypewk,'  sez  Oi.  'Naw, 
no  Ditch,'  sez  he.  'Get  out,'  sez  Oi,  'or  Oi'll  hit  ye  a  rap 
in  the  jaw  that'll  lave  yer  whole  fam'ly  toothless,'  sez  Oi. 
'D'ye  think  Oi  don't  knoo  Ditch  fwhin  Oi  sees  id  ?  Didn't 
we  have  a  Ditchman  in  the  fam'ly  wanst  ?"  sez  Oi. 

"Mimmaw!"  says  Arethusa,  interrupting  her  mother. 

"Oh,  don't  be  afeert,  Toozy.  Oi'll  nuver  mintion  Hin- 
nery  to  any  wan.  Oi'm  uv'ry  bit  as  mooch  ashamed  av 
him  meself  as  ye  are,  ur  as  uver  the  Morriscenys  wur  av 
their  Ditch  son-in-law,  who  turned  conductor,  an'  fwhin 
anybody  axes  me  fwhat's  become  av  me  daughter's  bow- 
legged  hisband  Oi  tells  thim  not  to  mintion  his  name  in 
my  presence  or  Oi'll  have  them  arreshted.  Never  moind 
me,  Toozy,  Oi'm  sharp  enoof  to  know  fwhat  Oi'd  ought  to 
know  an'  to  kape  me  mout'  shut  about  the  resht,  an'  id's 
bekase  Oi  was  afeert  that  annythin'  soundin'  Ditchy  in  the 
house  moight  soort  av  give  the  shnap  away  that  Oi  got  so 
mad  wid  Frinchy  for  thryin'  to  mislaid  me  into  shpakin* 
the  Vollypewk.  Wasn't  Oi  roight,  me  daughter?  Ye  bet 
yer  socks  Oi  was." 


122  WIDOW  MAGOOGIN. 


IT  WAS  ALL  A  DREAM. 

"Ar*  ye  there,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?"  shouted  the  Widow 
Magoogin,  as  she  leaned  across  the  back  yard  fence  and 
waited  for  a  response  from  the  shanty  opposite. 

"Faix  'n'  Oi  am,  Mrs.  Magoogin,"  answered  the  neighbor, 
appearing  in  her  own  kitchen  door. 

"Thin  id's  mesel's  glad  to  see  ye,  me  frind,"  said  the 
Widow,  "fur  do  ye  know,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  th'  quare 
dhraim  intoirely  that  Oi  was  afther  havin'  lasht  noight. 
Th'  Lord  bechuxt  iz  an'  harrum,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but 
d'ye  know,  Oi  dhraimed  a  dhraim  that  be  the  concatty- 
nashin  av  some  unandhershtandable  sarcumshtances,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  that  Oi  suddintly  bekem  a  millinairess  an' 
was  rowlin'  in  wealth  an  'dazzlin'  s'soi'ty  wud  th'  slathers 
av  goold  an'  doimins  that  Oi  bawt  wud  me  mooney.  Ow, 
wow!  but  id's  th'  grand  toimes  Oi  was  havin'  wud  me 
cooch  an'  foor  an'  me  nagur  dhroiver,  an'  me  fotoiles  an* 
passimintairies  an'  dollykets  an'  bing-bongs  an'  sore  eyes; 
an'  Oi  thawt  Toozy  was  a  widdy  wud  her  hizban',  Hinnery' 
aff  in  Yurrup  ur  some  other  say-poort ;  an'  poor  Tammy — 
th'  noice  little  b'y  thet  uv'rybody  calls  the  toof  to — was  a 
rale  out-an'-out  jood,  an'  as  fur  mesel',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
Oi  was  sosaciatin'  wud  the  Vanderbilks  an'  th'  Golettys  an' 
th'  Montmorintcies  an'  all  th'  big-boogs  an'  hoigh-chuned 
boodlers  av  Noo  Yarrick.  Oh,  my!  but  id's  me  was 
ashamed  av  mesel'  fwhin  Oi  woke  up  this  mawrnin',  an'  Oi 
didn't  know  fwhether  Oi  kud  luk  yersel'  in  th'  face  this 
mawrnin',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  fur  fear  av  th'  mortification 
that  id  overcome  me,  fur  didn't  Oi  dhraim  that  ye  called 
an  me  in  me  mansion  in  Luxin'ton  Avenoo,  me  frind,  an* 
that  Oi  axed  ye  not  to  bring  Jurry  wud  ye,  afeert  that  he'd 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

shpit  an  the  carpits  ur  woipe  his  nose  in  me  red  curtains. 
Oh,  musha,  now,  doon't  get  mad  at  a  little  thing  loike  that, 
me  frind.  Sure  an'  doon't  Oi  know  that  Jurry  wudn't  do 
the  loikes,  an',  woman  aloive,  wasn't  Oi  only  dhramin',  anj 
anny  way,  doon't  dhraims  always  go  be  conthraroieties  ? 
But  Oi  was  all  in  a  thrimble  fwhoile  Oi  was  in  s'soi'ty  lest 
'n  some  av  the  payple  f ram  the  Hill  id  dhrap  in  an'  ketch 
me  at  me  doidoes.  Thanks  be  to  goodness,  though,  none 
av  th'  McGowans  or  Gilligans  saw  me  an'  id  was  only 
yersel'  that  Oi  was  ashamed  av ;  but  now  that  I've  towld  ye 
how  it  was,  av  coorse  there'll  be  no  hard  feelin's  bechuxt 
you  an'  me  an*  Jurry  an'  the  goat.  Bad  sesht  to  the  gang 
av  s'soi'ty  ducks  annyway,  but  Oi  wish  Docther  Dix  id  sind 
fur  me  to  give  him  a  few  p'inthers  about  thim — begorry, 
he'd  have  plinty  to  say  about  thim  thin,  fur  Oi  kud  fill  him 
up  wud  uxpariences  that  id'  make  his  eyebrows  fall  out  av 
their  sockits.  Av  coorse  fwhat  Oi  saw  an'  hurd  Oi  saw  an* 
hurd  in  me  dhraim,  but  say,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  s'soi'ty, 
aiven  in  dhraims,  is  enoof  to  make  a  yally  cat  sick.  No 
more  s'soi'ty  in  moine,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  not  aff  th'  owld 
gerl  knows  herseF,  an'  be  jinges,  she  think  she  do/' 


POLITICS. 


POLITICS. 


THE  LEXOW  COMMITTEE. 

"They're  always  pokin'  foon  at  th'  Oirish,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty." 

"So  id  seems,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"They  think  id  hurts  th'  Oirish,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

''That's  i'what  they  do,  Mrs.  Magoogin/' 

"But  ye  kin  tell  thim  this  fram  me,  thet  th'  Oirish  kin 
laugh  at  all  ov  thim,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Thrue  for  ye,  thrue  for  ye,  Mrs.  Magoogin !" 

"Ye  kin  bet  yer  loife  id's  thrue  for  me,  me  frind,"  said 
the  Widow,  getting  very  hot  around  the  place  where  other 
ladies  wear  their  decolletes.  "See  how  the  papers  an'  all  av 
thim  med  game  of  that  owld  lady  thet  was  before  th' 
Lectionow  (Lexow)  Committey.  Th'  Lectionow  fellows 
throied  to  make  her  say  thet  she  tuk  money  out  av  bank 
to  pay  fur  gettin'  her  three  sons  an  th'  polaice  foorce,  but 
they  found  out  thet  she  was  uvry  bit  as  schmart  as  they 
thought  thimsel's  to  be,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  They  kudn't 
poozle  her,  or  bamboozle  her  ayther,  an'  fwhin  they  sed 
foony  things  to  her,  she  gev  thim  boick  uvry  bit  as  gud  as 
they  sint,  me  frind.  She  had  answer  for  answer  ready 
fur  thim,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  my  blessin's  an  her  fur 
bein'  so  cute.  They  got  nawthin'  out  av  her,  but  she  got 

[I27J 


128  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

th'  proice  av  a  kag  av  lager  out  ay  thim,  an',  begorry,  but 
she  musht  have  a  great  toime  at  home  winkin'  at  her 
neighbors  an'  laughin'  at  owld  Lectionow  as  she  inj'ys  th' 
beer  he  ped  for,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  That's  wan  toime 
fwhin  they  didn't  get  th'  besht  av  th'  Oirish,  me  frind. 

"But  fwhat  in  the  wurruld,  Oi  doon't  know,  ar'  thim 
Lectionow  min  afther  anyway,  will  ye  tell  me,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty?  Do  they  want  to  'bolish  th'  intoire  polaice 
foorce  av  Noo  Yarruk,  Oi  wondher?  That's  fwhat  they 
Bairns  to  be  throyin'  to  do,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  They're 
axin'  this  kustion  an'  that  kustion,  baitin'  round  th'  boosh, 
an*  intimatin'  an'  insinivatin'  that  min  pays  mooney  to 
be  med  polaicemin'  an'  that's  how  th'  commissuners  gets 
rich  so  quick,  but  divil  th'  ha'p'orth  av  evidince  do  they 
get,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  No,  ma'am,  not  so  mooch  as  ye 
kud  put  in  yer  oye.  Upon  me  sowl,  do  ye  know  that 
Oi  belaive  they're  here  to  inj'y  themsel's,  an'  nothin'  more  ? 
Aff  they  wanted  to  foind  out  fwhether  or  no  peelers  paid  to 
get  an  th'  foorce  fwhy  don't  they  ax  thimsel's.  There's 
nearly  four  thousan'  polaicemin  in  th'  city,  an'  it'd  be  aisy 
fur  Lectionow  an'  his  committay  to  ax  uv'ry  wan  av  thim 
th'  kustion  aff  they  railly  an  thruly  wanted  to  know.  An* 
th'  polaice  ar'  th'  b'ys  that  know  aft*  onnybody  knows,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty.  Oi'm  afeert,  though,  that  thim  Lectionow 
fellows  ain't  as  mooch  in  airnist  as  they  throy  to  make  id 
appear,  me  frind.  Oi'd  loik  to  have  Dinnis  O'Grady  get 
hould  av  thim.  Fwhat,  don't  ye  know,  Dinnis?  He's 
playin'  in  a  play  call'd  'Tabash'co'  at  th'  Broadway  Theay- 
ther,  an'  murdherin'  thundher !  bud  he's  th'  f  ooniest  Oirish- 
man  Oi  uver  clapt  me  opticalities  an,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
He's  th'  b'y  thet  makes  thim  shtand  around,  mavourneen. 
Divil  rattle  me,  but  Oi'd  giv  tin  dollars  this  blissid  minnit 
to  see  him  afore  th'  Lectionow  Committay  answerin'  id 
boick  in  his  own  shmart  wav.  Mebbe  there  wudn't  be 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  1 29 

winkin'  an'  blinkin'  f  whin  he  sung  this  song  at  thim,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty : 

"01  thought  Oi'd  jine  th>  Foinest 

An'  put  an  a  uniform, 
So  thet  all  th'  sarvint  gerruls'  h'arts 

Oi  thin  kud  take  be  storm. 
Two  hundherd  an'  fifty  dollars 

Some  wan  sed  Oi'd  have  to  pay ; 
So  Oi  tuk  id  to  Headquarthers, 

But  this  is  f  what  the  Boord  did  say : 
"Shwim  out,  O'Grady !    Take  yer  two  an'  a  half  away ! 
How  dar'  ye  throy  to  broibe  iz  ?    We  aren't  an  that  lay ! 
But  fwhishper!     Come   agin  fwhin  there's  no  Lixow 
Committay ! 

Shwim  out,  O'Grady !    Shwim  out !" 

"Id's  an  owld  sayin'  that  ye  can't  fool  th'  Germans,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  but  id's  a  betther  wan  that  id  takes  th'  divil's 
own  cuteniss  to  ketch  an  Oirishman  in  a  loie,  an'  there'll 
be  'ysthersickles  an'  Misther  Lectionow's  fwhishkers  an' 
ehnowballs  in  his  hair  fwhin  he  foinds  out  in  trooth  an' 
airnist  fwhether  ur  no  a  Noo  Yorruk  polaiceman  pays  a 
cint  to  get  on  th'  foorce,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 


CLOSING  THE  SALOONS  ON  SUNDAY. 

"Musha  bad  luk  to  that  Docthor  Poicrust,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty!" 

"An'  bad  luk  to  him  again,  Mrs.  Magoogin !" 
"May  th'  divil  nuver  have  an  aisy  minnit  antil  he  gets 
howld  av  him,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 


I3O  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

"Ahmin !  an'  ahmin  agin,  sez  Oi,  Mrs.  Magoogin !" 
'Th'  oidaya  av  closin'  up  th'  salyunes  an  th'  very  day 
that  we  wants  thim  the  mosht/'  said  the  Widow,  with  a 
great  deal  of  feeling.  "Sure  an'  fwhat  else  have  we  to  do 
afther  goin'  to  church  an'  aitin'  our  dinners  an  Sunda's 
but  to  sit  down  besoide  a  can  av  beer  an'  mellow  our  hearts, 
fwhoile  we're  takin'  a  glass  av  id  now  an'  thin',  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty.  It  isn't  all  av  iz  that  kin  kape  a  kag  av  id  in 
the  cellar  loike  Docthor  Poicrust,  ur  woine  ur  champagny 
wather  in  the  soideboord  loike  me  frind  Ward  McAllisther, 
an'  id  isn't  manny  av  iz  nayther  that  kin  affoord  to  go  to 
Dellamonkeyos  an'  pay  him  th'  proice  av  a  month's  rint 
fur  a  turkey  sangwich  in  ordher  that  they  may  sell  iz  a 
mug  av  ale  ur  a  noggin  av  fwhiskey  fur  a  dollar  an'  a  half, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  No,  indade,  mam,  we're  not  in  id,  as 
th'  man  sed  fwhin  th'  goat  ate  his  doeskin  pants  aff  av  the 
loine.  We're  poor,  honest,  daycint,  harrud  wurkin'  payple 
that  nawthin'  but  thrubbles  comes  to,  id  saims  to  me,  an* 
begorry,  fwhin  we  do  begin  to  f oind  a  little  playsure  in  loife 
some  son  av  a  saycuke  loike  Superintinder  Byrnes  ur 
Dochtor  Poicrust  comes  along  an'  snatches  id  out  av  our 
mout's  an'  sez,  'Get  aff  th'  yairth — ye're  havin'  too  shporty 
a  toime  intoirely  an  this  himmyspere !'  An'  get  aff  we 
musht,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  ur  begorry  they'll  pit  iz  aff,  bad 
sesh  to  thim ! 

"Now  fwhat  harrum,  tell  me,  is  there  in  a  glass  av  beer 
an  Sunda'  anny  more  than  anny  other  day  in  th'  week,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty?  Fwhy,  woman  aloive,  didn't  Docthur  Poi 
crust  dhrink  id  himsel'  th'  noight  he  wint  out  inj'yin' 
himsel'  playin'  moomblety-peg  wud  th'  gerruls?  Thin 
fwhat  in  th'  divil  is  he  kickin'  about,  Oi  dunno  ?  Let  him 
praich  an'  rowl  his  eyes  an'  play  moomblety-peg  all  he 
loikes,  but  fur  Heaven's  sake,  fwhy  can't  he  laive  you  an' 
me  an'  th'  resht  av  iz  alone,  that  diz  him  no  harrum? 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  131 

Oi'll  howld  ye  tin  dollars,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that  Berdie 
Magoogin's  can  av  beer  an  a  Sunda',  ur  a  Monda',  ur  an 
anny  day,  shkandaloizes  th'  wurnild  less  than  th'  dhrinkin's 
an'  carryin's  an  av  th'  payple  av  Dochtor  Poicrust's  parish. 
Oi'll  hould  ye  that  they  ate  less  an'  dhrink  more  an  Sunda' 
than  we  do,  an'  wud  more  ayvil  results  to  th'  kimmunity, 
too ;  fur,  f whoile  they  have  th'  dusht  to  do  it  wid,  we  poor 
owld  shlobs  have  nothin'  an'  musht  be  contint  to  do  our 
sinnin'  an'  connivin'  at  home. 

"Oi'll  howld  ye  they  hunt  more  soide  dures  an  Sunda' 
than  all  the  soakers  in  the  Foort  Ward  put  together  diz, 
an'  id  wudn't  shupproise  me  a  bit  av  th'  owld  Dochtor 
himsel'  shtuck  his  nose  into  wan  av  thim  wanst  in  a  f  whoile, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Aha !  but  be  all  accounts  he's  a  purty 
shpry  owld  coon,  me  frind,  an'  Oi  guess  he  loikes  to  wet 
his  fwhistle  as  affen  as  th'  resht  av  iz.  So  far  as  mesel'  is 
consarned,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Oi've  got  nawthin'  agin 
Super  Byrnes  nur  Docthor  Poicrust,  nur  they  agin  me 
naythur,  Oi  shuppose,  but  Oi  want  to  tell  thim  they're  in- 
terfarin'  wud  the  Conshtitushin  av  th'  Noo-Noited  Shtates 
an'  Tammany  Hall  fwhin  they  cut  aff  our  Sunda'  beer,  an* 
th'  sooner  they  quit  id  th'  betther  fur  thimsel's.  I 

"Be  Heavens,  some  av  iz'll  doie  av  the  droot  some 
Sunda',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  thin  who'll  be  responson- 
siple  for  id?  Super  Byrnes  an'  Docthor  Poicrust,  to  be 
coorse,  an'  may  th'  Lord  have  marcy  an  their  sowls !  But 
Oi'll  not  be  wan  av  thim  az'll  doie  av  th'  droot,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty.  No  ma'am!  Me  daughther  Toozy's  mud  a 
shmash  an  Hoolihin's  bartinder  an'  we  haven't  to  go  fur 
th'  beer  at  all,  at  all — he  sinds  iz  around  a  fresh  pint  uv'ry 
half  hour,  so  that  ye  kin  tell  Super  Byrnes  fwhin  ye  see 
him  ur  Misthur  Docthor  Poicrust  that  long  afore  foor 
o'clock  uv'ry  Sunda'  uv'rybody  in  Berdie  Magoogin's  home 
is  singin'  'ThKirarara-tum-tiddlee.' " 


132  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 


A  HALO  FOR  DR.  PARKHURST. 

"Do  ye  know  fwhat,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 

"Fwhat  is  id,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"Do  ye  know  that  Oi'm  thinkin'  av  sendin'  Docthor  Poi- 
crust  a  Christmes  prisint  ?" 

"Yurro,  now,  is  that  so,  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 

"Yis,  ma'am,  id  is,"  said  the  Widow,  seriously.  "Oi'm 
thinkin'  av  sindin'  him  wan  av  thim  stoivepoipe  holes  that 
ye  see  th'  saints,  Heaven  bliss  thim,  wearin'  in  th'  peckthurs 
in  th'  pray'r-bukes.  Helloes,  they  diz  be  af ther  callin'  thim, 
so  me  daughther  Toozy  towlt  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  He's 
sooch  a  good,  noice,  poious  man,  me  frind,  that  Oi  think 
he  wad  look  foine  wud  a  shtove-poipe  hole  all  an  f oire  loike 
an  th'  tap  av  his  head.  He's  intoirely  too  gud  fur  Noo 
Yorruk,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty;  his  home  ought  to  be  in  Gar- 
r-r-din  City  ur  in  Heaven,  me  frind.  But  Oi  hope  he'll 
rayform  the  polaice  foorce.  Thim  ar'  th'  buckos  that  need 
rayformin'.  Did  ye  uver  see  a  copper  in  the  Salvashin 
A-army  ur  takin'  up  a  collection  in  church  Sunda'  mawr- 
nin',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  Oi'll  warrant  ye  that  ye  nuver 
did,  me  frind.  No,  nor  anny  wan  else.  They're  too  fond 
of  spoort.  Fwhisper,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty!  There's  my 
brother-in-law,  Moike  Magoogin,  that's  been  on  th'  foorce 
fur  tin  year  come  nuxt  August.  He's  th'  very  divil  among 
th'  gerruls,  an'  is  breakin  their  h'arts  an'  pullin'  their  legs 
all  the  toime.  Now  who  th'  divil  d'ye  shuppose  id  ever 
rayform  him  ?  Fwhy,  aff  he  didn't  have  a  noo  gerrul  uv'ry 
week  or  two  his  friends  id  think  there  was  somethin'  wrang 
an'  th'  wurruld  wus  comin'  to  an  ind. 

"Oi'll  howld  ye  anythin'  that  Moike  is  wan  av  th'  laddy 
bucks  thet  Poicrust  wants  to  ketch  howld  av.  Take  my 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  133 

wumid  fur  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  there's  none  av  thim 
young  fellows  that  knocks  around  th'  Tindherline  disthruct 
that  kin  howld  a  candle  wud  Moike.  He's  a  smasher  fram 
Smasherville,  an'  fwhin  he  twishts  up  that  blond  moosthach 
av  his  an'  casts  a  connoivin'  oye  at  a  faymale  id's  all  day 
wud  her.  Oi'll  howld  ye  that  id's  him  that's  roisin'  up  all 
th'  divilmint  bechuxt  Poicrust  an'  thim  wimmin  in  th' 
Tindherline.  Poicrust  sez  the  polaice  have  intoirely  too 
mooch  to  do  wud  th'  ladies'  an'  so  th'  Shuperinthinder  has 
to  sind  thim  all  away.  More  powir  to  that  same  Poicrust, 
but  Oi'm  afeert  he  has  a  purty  harrud  row  to  hoe,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,  an'  Oi'll  tell  ye  fwhy,  acushla ;  he's  too  gud  fur 
this  moondane  speer,  as  me  daughther  Toozy  sez,  fwhin 
she  wants  to  make  belaive  she's  shpakin'  poickry.  Noo 
Yarruk  is  an  owld  place  an'  a  settled  place  an'  id  got  along 
purty  well  wudout  Poicrust  afore  he  cum  along  an'  id'll  be 
here  an'  get  along  wudout  him  fwhin  he's  dead  an'  gone, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"But  Oi  pity  th'  gud  Lord  himsel'  fwhin  Poicrust  pits 
an  his  wings  an'  begins  to  wear  his  shtove-poipe  hole  in 
airnist.  Won't  he  shtick  his  nose  into  uv'rybody's  bezniss 
in  th'  Noo  Jayroosalam  an*  thry  to  rayform  th'  archangils 
thimsel's,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  Ow  wow,  but  there'll  be 
howly  murther  in  Heaven  above!  They'll  have  to  be 
sindin'  down  for  Shuperinthinder  Byrons  to  kape  th'  paice. 
An'  he's  th'  b'y  to  do  id.  He's  bin  thurty  years  an  th'  Noo 
Yarruk  foorce  an*  may  he  nuver  know  a  day's  harrum  ur 
worrimint  until  he's  thurty  more  an  id,  an'  thurty  more 
afther  that  agin!  Poi crusts  ar'  plinty  in  this  wurruld, 
but  there's  only  wan  Shuperinthinder  Byrons,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty.  Slaintha  walla,  Tom,  agrah !" 


134  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 


SHE  GETS  HER  SUNDAY  BEER. 

"Bad  sesh  to  me,  but  isn't  this  weather,  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty?" 

"Now,  ye're  shoutin*,  Mrs.  Magoogin!" 

"A  dhrop  av  beer  id  go  well  now,  wudn't  id,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty?" 

"Oy,  or  two  dhrops,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Well,  begorry,  we'll  have  id,  me  f  rind,"  said  the  Widow, 
and  she  called  her  son  Tommy  and  sent  him  for  a  pint. 
"Be  sure  an'  tell  him  to  fill  it  up  to  th'  brim,  an'  no  nan- 
since  about -id,  aither!"  was  her  parting  injunction  to 
the  boy. 

"Oh,  but  id's  to-morry  that  there'll  be  th'  h'istin'  an* 
shcramblin'  for  th'  beer,"  the  Widow  went  on;  "for  Oi 
shuppose  id'll  be  th'  same  as  th'  other  Soonda's  wud  th' 
soide  doors  closed  up  an'  th'  Paddy-take-care-there-b'ys  an 
th'  lukout  an  the  soidewalks  an'  in  th'  hallways.  Oh,  no, 
Borra  th'  bit  av  throubble  have  we  had  wud  gettin'  beer  an 
Soonda'  anny  more  than  anny  other  day,  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty.  Oi  simply  take  th'  can  an'  rowl  id  up  in  a  pilly 
Bhlip  an'  pit  id  into  th'  markit  baskkit  an'  my  Tammy  pits 
it  on  his  arrum  an'  goes  out  an'  comes  back  wid  id  full  av 
lager.  Oi  never  axes  him  pwhere  or  how  he  gets  id  bekase 
Oi  might  be  called  up  afore  th'  Lixow  Cummittay  an'  be 
axt  about  id,  d'ye  moind,  an'  Oi  doon't  want  to  know,  d'ye 
see,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  But  Oi  have  a  shnaikin'  soirt  av 
an  intinse  suspeeshun  that  he  goes  oop  to  th'  Hoffyman 
House  Caif  ur  Delmonkeyo's  an'  gets  id  from  wan  av  thim 
toigh-chuned  bartindhers  that  he  knows  so  well  up  there," 
and  the  Widow  nearly  sprained  her  left  eye  with  the  wink 
she  gave  her  neighbor.  "Oh,  there  ar*  uver  so  manny 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  135 

Churry  Hillers  that  gets  their  Soonda*  beer  in  th'  same 
way,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty — ur  at  least  they  say  they  diz,  an* 
God  help  iz,  fwhat  raisin  have  they  to  loi  about  id.  Begor- 
ries,  but  th'  Hoffyman  Caif  an'  Delmonkeyo's  musht  be 
doin'  a  great  can  thrade  there  Sunda's,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty ! 
"Howly  St.  Pathrick,  but  did  ye  hear  fwhat  happint  toj 
th'  Jerolymin's  belyou?  They  had  no  bashkit  an'  no  box', 
nur  nawthin'  to  put  th'  growler  in,  so  fwhat  dez  they  do 
but  take  a  Saratogy  thrunk  an'  put  th'  can  into  id  an'  j 
little  Murty  Joryliman  thet's  not  three  years  old  yet  in 
wid  id  to  howld  th'  can  an'  kape  id  from  shpillin'.  Well,  lo 
an'  behowld  ye,  two  av  thim  carried  th'  thrunk  out  wud 
thim  an'  got  th'  can  uv  beer  an'  gev  id  to  th'  kid  to  howld 
an'  thin  marched  back  wid  th'  thrunk  bechune  thim  agin. 
Now,  fwhat  d'ye  think,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  Fwhin  they 
got  into  th'  house  an'  opin'd  th'  thrunk  divil  th'  sup  av 
beer  was  in  th'  can.  'Fwhare's  th'  lager,  Murty,  dear?' 
his  father  axt.  But  divil  the  wurrud  kud  Murty  say;  he 
jisht  keeled  over  an'  wint  to  shleep.  'Ye'll  have  to  tap 
him  aff  ye  want  id,'  sez  bloind  Hanrahan,  an'  thin  they 
all  set  to  bad-dangin'  Lixow  and  Poicrust  an'  they  had  to 
sind  out  th'  thrunk  an'  th'  can  agin.  But  this  toime  they 
tuk  care  that  there  was  no  Murty  insoide  av  th'  thrunk, 
an'  they  got  their  lager  all  roight.  But  here's  Tammy 
back.  Nuver  moind  a  glass!  Put  th'  can  an  th'  top  av 
yer  head,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 


136  WIDOW  MAGOOGIN. 


LOOKING  FOR  A  POLITICIAN'S  JOB. 

"D'ye  know  fwhere  Oi  was  this  mawrnin',  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty?" 

"'Deed  V  I  do  not,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"To  be  coorse  ye  doon't,"  said  the  Widow.  "How  kud 
ye,  asthore,  fwhin  Oi  didn't  tell  ye  fwhere  Oi  was  goin'? 
But  nuver  moind,  Oi'll  tell  ye  now,  an'  it'll  do  ye  uv'ry  bit 
as  mooch  good,  me  frind,  as  aff  ye  hurd  it  a  waik  ago.  Well 
thin,  to  come  to  th'  pint,  Oi  was  down  at  the  City  Hall  to 
bid  Mayor  Van  Wyck  th'  top  av  th'  mawrnin'  an'  godshpeed 
an  his  new  position,  an'  Oi  presinted  me  petition  to  make 
me  th'  janithor  av  th'  City  Hall.  An'  d'ye  know  fwhat  he 
sed  to  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  He  sed  he  was  glad  to  see 
me  an'  wud  be  rail  sorry  to  see  annybody  else  howldin'  th' 
job  av  janithor  av  th'  Hall,  but  he  was  afeerd  that  Oi  was 
too  young  an'  purty  to  be  trun  in  th'  way  av  a  daycint  owld 
bachelor  loike  himsel'  an'  a  lot  av  giddy  young  clarks  that 
war  doin'  nawthin'  the  livelong  day  durin'  the  wurrkin' 
hours  but  thryin'  to  make  smashes  an'  tellin'  aich  other 
loies  about  thim.  'Ye're  too  attractive  a  widdy,  Mrs.  Ma 
googin/  sez  he,  'an'  Oi'm  afeert  it  id  be  afther  makin'  a 
clain  swaip,  av  all  th'  young  jood's  hearts  in  th'  Hall  ye'd 
be,'  sez  he.  'Aw,  get  out !  ye  doon't  mane  id,'  sez  Oi.  'Ye're 
flattherin*  me,  yer  banner/  sez  Oi.  'Divil  a  flatther/ 
sez  he. 

"Oh,  my !  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  he  was  that  noice  an* 
shwate  wud  me  that  Oi  felt  the  blud  coorsin'  warrum  in 
me  veins  an'  Oi  koind  av  dhraimt  Oi  was  a  mare  shlip  av 
a  gerl  agin  shtandin'  in  the  sun  in  the  meadows  beyant  me 
father's  cabin — God  be  gud  to  his  sowl  this  blessid  day !— 
watchin'  me  own  Dinny  comin'  acrass  th'  fields  to  ketch  me 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  137 

in  his  arrums  an'  clashp  me  to  his  breasht  an'  call  me  his 
own  darlint  Biddy.  Fur  Biddy  was  me  name  in  thim 
days,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  plain  Bridget  ma'am — but  me 
daughther  Toozy  changed  id  to  Berdie  bekase  she  said 
Berdie  sounded  purtier  an'  s'soi'ty  id  think  betther  uv  me 
fur  id. 

"But  comin'  back  to  his  banner,  th'  Mare,  agin,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty.  Oi  railly  and  thruly  belaive  Oi  med  a 
shmash  an  him.  He  wuz  awful  sorry  that  he  kudn't  'p'int 
me  janithur  av  th'  Hall,  but  bear  in  moind  fwhat  Oi  say, 
me  frind,  Oi'll  hear  from  his  banner,  the  Mare,  yit.  He 
tipt  me  a  wink  as  Oi  wint  out  th'  dure  an'  shuk'  his  hand 
afther  me  that  way,  as  mooch  as  to  say,  'Oi'll  see  ye  sooner ; 
come  agin  an'  don't  shtay  away  so  long  the  nuxt  toime?' 
Oi  towlt  him  that  Oi'd  kape  me  oye  an  the  flagshtaff  fur 
him  an'  nuver  let  anythin'  but  th'  Shtars  an'  Shtroipes 
an'  th'  A.  0.  H.  banner  float  to  th'  breezies  over  th'  City 
Hall.  He  laughed  an'  towlt  me  he'd  see  about  id,  an* 
fwhin  Oi  left  him  he  wuz  in  rale  gud  humor,  fur  as  Oi 
wint  out  Oi  hurd  him  fwhistlin'  Twhin  the  Robbers  Nesht 
Agin,'  an'  all  the  clarks  in  th'  office  war  breakin'  their 
hearts  laughin'  at  him. 

"Oi  wudn't  be  shupproised,  me  frind,  aff  his  banner  id 
sind  fur  me  anny  day  an'  make  me  his  janithor,  an'  aff  he 
diz  Oi  promise  ye,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that  id'll  not  be  long 
afore  Oi  have  him  at  me  feet  axin'  me  to  be  Mrs.  Mare  Van 
Wyck  an'  wantin'  me  to  take  a  weddin'  towr  to  Europe  ur 
Oirelan'  wud  him.  Bad  sesht  to  him  but  fwhat  diz  he  want 
to  be  an  owld  bachelor  fur  anny  way,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty? 
Isn't  id  betther  fur  him  to  have  a  noice  daycint  woife  that'll 
have  th'  supper  ready  fur  him  fwhin  he  comes  home  at 
noights  than  to  be  aitin'  cowld  tongue  an'  hot  mince  poie 
in  reshtaurongs  an'  baineries,  an'  chasin  'around  from  wan 
boordin'  house  to  another  in  search  av  paice  an'  quoiet 


138  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

thaat  kin  only  be  found  in  a  nate  little  home  wid  a  noice 
little  widdy  woman  loike  mesel'  fur  a  woife  ?  Isn't  id  thrue 
fur  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?  Ye  bet  yer  loife  it  is." 


TOMMY  TO  BE  A  POLICEMAN". 

"Bad  luck  to  ye,  but  how  ar'  ye  this  mawrnin',  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty?" 

"To  tell  ye  th'  thruth,  Oi'm  not  feelin'  very  well.  An* 
how  ar'  ye  yersel',  aff  Oi  moight  ax,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"Foiner  an'  frishkier  nor  never,  me  frind." 

"Oh,  ho,  thin,  id  musht  be  th'  very  gud  news  ye're  afther 
havin',  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 

"Throth  'n'  id  is— th'  besht  of  news,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty," 
said  the  Widow,  resting  her  arms  on  the  top  of  the  fence. 
"Fwhishper !  Oi  was  down  to  see  me  partecklir  frind,  his 
hanner,  the  Mare,  this  mawrnin',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an* 
fwhat  do  ye  think — fwhat  in  th'  wurruld  do  ye  think  he 
sint  fur  me  for?  Divil  shoot  me  aff  id  wasn't  to  tell  that 
he  wantid  to  do  me  as  great  a  favor  as  it  id  lay  in  his  pow'r 
to  do  me.  'Oh,  thank  ye,  sor,  yer  hanner,'  sez  Oi,  shmoilin' 
an'  givin'  him  wan  av  thim  sasshay-all  bows  that  they  diz 
fwhin  dancin'  th'  lancers,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  'An'  fwhat 
fur  koind  av  favor  is  id  ye'd  be  afther  doin'  me,  yer  ban 
ner?'  sez  Oi,  agin  ,waitin'  fur  him  to  shpake  an'  me  howl- 
din'  me  breath  f  whoile  me  heart  fiutther'd  up  in  me  mouth 
loike  a  burrud  baitin'  id's  cage  wud  joy ;  fur  ye  musht  know, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that  his  hanner  is  an  owld  bachelor — 
no,  ma'am,  uxcuse  me,  id's  a  young  an'  han'some  bachelor 
Oi  mint  to  say,  an'  aff  Oi  do  say  id  myself  he's  thrun  more 
than  wan  unbeknowin'  oye  in  th'  direction  av  yoors  throoly ; 
BO  how  did  Oi  know,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  fwhat  he  was 
goin'  to  say  was  that  he  wud  give  me  his  heart  an'  hand  an* 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  139 

make  me  th'  Maress  av  Noo  Yarrick  an'  th'  misthress  av 
th' City  Hall? 

"That's  fwhat  Oi  thawt  at  firsht,  but  all  av  a  suddint 
id  flasht  upon  me  loike  a  dhraim  that  th'  election  was 
comin'  an  an'  wotes  was  wantid,  so  Oi  let  go  av  me  breath 
agin  an'  towlt  me  foolish  owld  heart  not  be  takin'  an  so 
mooch,  an'  wud  that,  sez  Oi,  to  mysel',  sez  Oi,  TDon't  be  a 
big  owld  shlob  av  a  moodhabowl,  Berdie  Magoogin,'  sez  Oi ; 
'id's  yer  inflooince  in  th'  Fusht  Ward  an'  not  yer  love  an' 
affection  they're  afther,'  sez  Oi.  An'  sure  enoof,  id  was  so, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  'Oi'll  tell  ye  fwhat  Oi'm  goin'  to  do/ 
sez  his  hanner,  cowldly.  'Oi'm  goin'  to  git  yer  b'y  Tammy 
in  th'  sthreet  clainin'  departmint,'  sez  he.  'Fwhat  doin', 
yer  hanner,  sor?'  sez  Oi.  'Clainin'  th'  shtreets/  sez  he. 
'Is  it  my  b'y  go  out  and  clain  th'  shtreets  fur  ye,  sor?' 
eez  Oi,  gettin'  all  to  wanst  as  mad  as  hop.  'No,  sor/ 
eez  Oi,  wud  indignation,  'divil  a  shtreet  in  th'  city'll  uver 
be  clain  aff  ye  wait  fur  my  Tammy  to  clain  thim/  sez  Oi. 
'An'  fwhy  not?'  sez  he.  'Bekase,  sor,  id's  benaith  th'  con- 
sthitutionality  av  his  family,  that's  th'  fwhy/  sez  Oi.  Thin 
we  had  it  up  an'  down  fur  afwhoile  wud  his  saicretary 
lukin'  an  an'  grinnin'  all  th'  toime. 

"At  lasht  he  sez  to  me,  sez  he,  'How  wud  ye  loike  to  make 
a  polaiceman  av  him  ?'  'Oh,  there,  now  yer  hanner,  that's 
jusht  th  'very  thing/  sez  Oi ;  'he'll  make  as  foine  a  polaice 
man,  yer  hanner,  as  there  is  on  th'  foorce,  sir/  sez  Oi. 
'All  roight  thin/  sez  he;  'sind  him  down  next  Monda'  an' 
Oi'll  have  a  talk  wud  him.'  He  towlt  me  that  aff  Tammy 
was  two  fut  taller  he'd  have  him  put  on  th'  Broadway 
shquad.  Oh,  my,  but  id  med  me  feel  gud.  Oi  towlt  his 
hanner  Oi'd  get  him  uv'ry  wote  in  th'  ward  fur  himseP 
an'  Tammany  Hall,  aff  Oi  had  to  kiss  uv'ry  lasht  blessed 
woter  in  id.  Tammy  was  tickled  to  death  fwhin  he  hurd 
it,  an'  he's  bin  shwingin'  a  club  uver  since  an'  pretindin'  to 


I4O  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

hammer  his  sisther  Toozy  an'  me  over  th'  head  wud  id. 
An'  ye  ought  to  hear  him  sing  'Oi'm  a  dandy  copper.'  Be- 
gorry,  wud  all  the  practoisin'  he  has  Oi'm  afther  thinkin' 
he'll  be  th'  greatest  clubber  on  th'  polaice  foorce.  Oh,  but 
mebbe  Oi  won't  be  th'  proud  woman,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
fwhin  Oi  see  him  in  his  hilmit  an'  blyue  clothes  an'  brass 
buttons;  an'  mebbe  Oi  won't  make  a  few  av  me  Ditch 
neighbors  walk  th'  chalk  fwhin  my  b'y  is  an  officer !  Oi'll 
have  thim  run  in  aft3  they  dar'  to  so  mooch  as  luk  eras  at  me, 
so  Oi  will.  'Pon  me  sowl,  but  Oi'm  beginnin'  to  think 
Tammy'll  soon  be  as  great  a  man  as  John  L.  Soolivan,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty  \" 


SPORTS  AND  FADS. 


SPORTS   AND    FADS. 


A  GAME  OF  GOLF. 

"Did  ye  see  me  daughter  Toozy's  new  beau,  Dilmonicky 
Gaysoondheit,  fwhin  he  kem  to  th'  house  yishtherday,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty  ?"  the  Widow  asked. 

"No,  Mrs.  Magoogin,  I  mist  him  yistherday,"  said  the 
neighbor. 

"Yis,  an  ye  mist  a  grand  soight,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  the 
Widow  replied.  "Talk  about  Bar-r-num's  serkus.  Fwhy, 
it's  torchloight  payrades  war  nuver  in  id  wid  Dilmonicky 
in  his  gawr-rf  shoot." 

"In  his  f what,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"In  his  gawr-rf  shoot,"  said  the  Widow,  trying  to  be 
indifferent  about  the  matter. 

"An'  fwhat  in  the  divil  koind  av  a  shoot  is  that,  Mrs. 
Magoogin  ?" 

"A  gawr-rf  shoot!"  said  the  Widow,  half  indignant. 
"Fwhy,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  is  id  possible  that  ye're  so 
ignororious  that  ye  don't  know  fwhat  a  gawr-rf  shoot  is? 
Well,  well,  well,  Oi'd  a-nuver  thought  it  av  ye,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty.  Fwhispher,  an'  don't  let  annybody  uver  hear 
ye  axin  such  a  kustion  agin,  me  frind.  Fwhy,  a  gawr-rf 
shoot,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  is  a  shoot  av  clothes  that  they 
wears  fwhen  they're  playin'  gawr-rfs." 

[143] 


144  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

"An'  fwhat  in  the  name  of  common  sinse  is  gawr-rfs,  as 
ye  call  it,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"Yurra,  yurra,  but  it's  har-rd  ye  ar'  to  taich  annything 
to,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow,  dejectedly.  "Fwhy, 
gawr-rfs  is  a  game  thet  ye've  got  to  belong  to  fashnibil 
s'soi'ty  to  play  it,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  An'  so,  whin  Oi  come 
to  think  about  it,  it's  no  great  wondher  that  ye  don't  know 
fwhat  it  is,  me  frind.  But  howld  a  minnit  an'  Oi'll  tell  ye 
all  about  it,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Well,  ye  see  gawr-rfs  is  a 
game  something  loike  crowkee,  only  it's  a  gud  dail  deffrunt, 
dy'ye  see?  It's  spelt  G-L-0-P-H-Q-Y,  but  it's  proper  Fift' 
Avnoo  pronoonsheasheashun  is  gawr-rfs,  d'ye  moind,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty  ? 

"Yurra,  but  it's  tumble  to  be  in  s'sci'ty  an'  have  to  say 
thim  things,  me  frind.  Ye  play  id  an  the  ground  wid  a 
lot  av  belliard  balls,  an'  the  fusht  thing  ye  have  to  do  is 
buy  a  foor-dollar  shoot  av  checker-boord  bally-dancin' 
clothes  to  play  it  in.  The  shoot  must  be  too  short  fur  ye  in 
th'  legs  an'  too  big  fur  ye  in  the  showlders,  an'  it  musht  be 
as  loud  as  a  brass  band  at  a  naygur's  funeril,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty.  It's  intinded  principly  to  show  aff  yer  legs,  me 
frind,  an'  th'  flyowrier  th'  pair  av  shtockins  ye  pits  an  yer 
shanks  the  gawr-rfier  ye  ar',  an'  the  more  gaylopshus. 

"That  brings  me  down  to  Dilmonicky's  legs,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty.  Fwhin  he  walkt  in  the  dure  yistherday  wid  his 
poipe-shtims  lukin  shlimmer  than  uver  in  red,  fwhoite  an 
blyue  shtockin's  an'  a  little  pickle  av  a  cap  an  the  top  av 
his  head  an  a  lot  av  axhandles  an'  things  wrapt  up  in  a 
broshay  shawl,  Oi  thought  it  was  a  play  achtor  frum  the 
Bow'ry  that  was  dhruvven  fram  his  boardin'  house  afore 
he  had  toime  to  pit  his  clothes  an.  'Howly  mother  av  hor 
rors,  an'  fwhat  has  happint  to  ye,  Delly  ?'  sez  Oi,  f whin  Oi 
reconnoized  him.  'Nawthin',  ma'am,'  sez  he.  'An'  who  tuk 
yer  clothes  fram  ye  an'  gev  ye  thim  disgraceful  things  ?'  sez 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  145 

Oi.  Thim's  my  gawr-rfs/  sez  he,  very  sheep-loike,  an* 
thryin'  to  hoide  wan  leg  behoind  th'  other,  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty. 

"Thin  he  up  an'  confessed  all,  sayin'  as  how  he  had  to 
play  gawr-rf  three  ur  foor  toimes  a  wake  to  kape  up  ap 
pearances  in  the  fashnibil  serkles  he  serkelates  in,  fur 
Dilmonicky  is  very  blyuc-bludded,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  aff 
de  duz  live  in  Delancy  sthreet — but  they  pays  tin  dollars 
a  month  rint,  f which  makes  all  the  deffrince  in  the  wurruld 
fwhin  it  comes  to  a  kustion  av  who  is  who  in  rale  s'sci'ty, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Well,  it  didn't  take  long  fur  Delly 
to  uxplain  th'  game  av  gawr-rfs  to  me,  me  f  rind ;  he  towlt 
me  the  names  av  th'  things  that  luk  loike  axe  handles  in 
th'  bag,  callin'  thim  tays  and  coffees  an'  blinky-blinks,  an' 
clinkity-clinks,  an'  sooch-loike — but  he  wouldn't  give  me 
air  a  wan  av  thim,  an'  me  jisht  dyin'  to  have  the  blinkety- 
dink  wid  the  brass  hammer  an  the  ind.  Oi'd  howld  it  be 
hoind  me  boick  till  the  nuxt  toime  that  red-headed  huzzy 
across  th'  hall  called  me  a  Far-r-Down,  fwhin  Oi'd  give 
her  a  clip  av  id  in  the  poll  that  she'd  not  forget  in  manny  a 
long  day,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"But  naver  moind,  me  frind,  he's  goin'  to  take  mesel'  an* 
me  daughther  Toozy  up  to  the  grassy  rinks  fwhere  they 
play  gawr-rfs,  above  Harlim  some  av  these  foine  days,  an* 
taich  iz  the  game.  He  sez  Oi'll  have  to  get  me  a  gawr-rf 
suit  an'  that  Oi  kin  be  a  tay-caddy  ur  a  tay-cannisther  ur 
somethin'  uv  that  soort.  But  Oi'll  nuver  dhress  up  loike 
him,  me  frind,  nur  let  me  daughther  disgrace  her  sex  be 
doin'  it,  ayther.  A  foine  soight  Oi'd  be  shteppin'  down 
Churry  shtreet  in  a  gawr-rfs  shoot  wid  th'  floies  fram 
Kornshtein's  butcher  shop  nibblin  at  the  calfs  av  me  legs, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty!" 


"Well,  bad  luck  to  th'  man  ur  th'  moonkey  ur  f whatuver 


146  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

else  he  was  that  invinted  th'  game  av  gawr-rfs,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty,"  said  the  Widow,  a  few  days  afterwards,  as  she 
tenderly  rubbed  one  shoulder  that  seemed  to  be  paining  her. 

"Did  ye  thry  id  ?"  the  neighbor  asked. 

"Faix  'TL'  Oi  did,  an'  it's  the  sarry  woman  Oi  am  to-day 
from  that  same  thryin',  me  frind,"  the  Widow  replied, 
dolefully. 

"An'  fwhin  did  ye  go?  Sure  'n*  I  nuver  seen  ye  laive 
th'  house,  an'  I  was  watchin'  to  see  ye  in  th'  plaid  shtock- 
in's  an'  short  skirt,"  said  the  neighbor. 

"Aha!  that's  fwhere  Oi  got  th'  besht  av  ye,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty,"  said  the  Widow,  triumphantly.  "Mesel'  an* 
me  daughther  Toozy,  shtole  out  afore  daylight  an'  spint  th' 
mawrnin'  in  th'  Grand  Cinthril  Station  waitin'  fur  Dil- 
inonicky  Gaysoondheit  to  come  an'  take  iz  to  the  rinks. 
Delmonicky  sint  around  a  uniform  that  belongt  to  his 
sisther,  who  is  a  champeen  gawr-rfs  play'r,  an'  Oi  was  up 
all  noight  puttin  it  an  an'  takin'  it  aff,  an'  pullin'  at  th' 
shkirt  to  make  it  longer  afore  Oi  kud  make  up  me  moind 
to  go  out  in  th'  sthreet  in  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  'Doon't 
be  a  silly  Willie,  mimmaw,'  sez  Toozy,  'thet  shkirt's  only 
eight  inches  fram  th'  ground  an'  it's  not  a  bit  too  short/ 
sez  she.  'Begorry,  it  feels  as  aff  it  was  eight  feet  fram  th' 
ground,'  sez  Oi.  'An'  aff  anny  wan  goes  to  shquintin'  at 
me  through  a  spoy-glass  fwhin  Oi'm  at  the  rinks,'  sez  Oi, 
'Oi'll  die  av  shame  an'  disthraction  anless  ye  purvoide  a 
hogshead  ur  a  blankit  ur  somethin'  else  to  put  around  me/ 
sez  Oi.  'Oh,  mimmaw,  ye'd  nuver  do  to  join  th'  Rainy- 
Day  Club/  sez  she.  'Throth'n  Oi'd  not/  sez  Oi,  'fur  though 
Oi've  uv'ry  bit  as  foine  a  pair  av  shanks  to  show  as  anny 
av  thim  Rainy  Daisies/  sez  Oi,  'Oi  doon't  bclaive  in  puttin' 
thim  an  exhibition/  sez  Oi.  'An'  fwhin  Oi  think  diffrint/ 
sez  Oi,  'Oi'll  go  into  th'  bally/  sez  Oi,  'an'  show  thim  fur 
all  they're  worth/  sez  Oi.  That's  th'  way  Oi  feel  about  id, 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  147 

Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  Oi  thought  Oi'd  let  her  know  me 
moind  an  that  p'int  roight  thin  an'  there. 

"But  afther  lettin'  down  a  tuck  in  th'  gawr-rfs  skirt  Oi 
consintid  to  wear  id,  an'  aff  we  shtartid  afore  daybreak,  as 
Oi  towlt  ye,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  It  was  noine  o'clock  afore 
Dilmonicky  kem  along  with  his  gawr-rfs  shoot  an  an'  th' 
clubs  an'  shticks  in  a  bag  in  his  hand.  Uv'rybody  in  th' 
daypot  was  lookin'  at  iz  an'  wanst  ur  twoice  Oi  thought 
thet  the  red-f  whiskered  polaiceman  an  jooty  there  an'  that 
was  furuver  givin'  me  an  oye  was  goin'  to  arrist  iz  fur  bein' 
dhrest  as  we  war.  But  we  got  aff  to  the  rinks  all  roight,  an' 
Oi  felt  aisier  in  me  dhress  an'  conscience  fwhin  we  put  th' 
dishtance  between  th'  city  an'  ourselves. 

"Ye'll  nuver  hear  av  me  playin'  gawr-rfs  agin,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty — nuver,  nuver,  nuver!  Bad  sesh  to  th'  game, 
but  uv'ry  bone  in  me  body  seems  broke  an'  uv'ry  muscle 
is  toied  into  foorteen  sailor  knots.  Fust  I  was  th'  tay-caddy 
an'  carried  th'  shticks  fur  Dilmonicky  an'  Toozy  fwhoile 
they  played.  Meelia  murther,  but  Oi  thought  Oi  was 
walkin'  tin  thousand  moiles  follyin'  thim  here,  there  an' 
uv'ry f where  wid  th'  bundle  av  shticks.  Thin  Oi  thought  id 
was  about  toime  to  have  a  little  foon  mesel',  so  Toozy  did 
th'  tay-caddyin'  fwhoile  Dilmonicky  an'  me  gawr-rf'd. 
Ye  takes  a  small  thrawneen  an'  a  ball,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
an'  pittin  it  an  tap  av  a  little  poile  av  mud  ye  hit  it  a  welt 
an'  knock  id  as  far  as  ye  kin,  d'ye  see.  Thin  ye  folly  it  up 
an'  takin'  another  shtick  ye  hit  id  another  welt  an'  so  an 
until  ye've  hit  id  wud  uv'ry  shtick  in  th'  bag.  There  ar* 
holes  in  th'  ground  that  ye  have  to  rowl  th'  ball  into  an* 
hedges  an'  ditches  ye  have  to  knock  id  across,  an'  all  th' 
toime  ye  haves  to  be  careful  to  use  th'  roight  shtick  ur  ye 
lose  th'  game.  Sure,  an'  wan  av  th'  shticks  id  be  enoof  fur 
me,  but  it  ud  not  be  gawr-rf  etiquette  to  jesht  use  wan 
shtick,  so  ye  lose  a  lot  av  toime  an'  get  yer  brain  twishted 


148  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

wandherin'  fwhether  ye'll  hit  th'  ball  this  toime  wid  a 
brassy  ur  a  nibbledyclick  ur  a  dhroiver  ur  God  knows  f  what. 
An'  id's  not  so  danged  aisy  to  hit  th'  ball  wud  anny  av 
thim,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty — not  nearly  so  aisy  as  it  Inks.  Oi 
med  twinty-noine  or  thirty  passes  at  th'  ball  th'  f  usht  toime 
wudout  uver  stirrin'  id.  Oi'd  swing  th'  shtick  around  me 
head  three  ur  foor  toimes  an'  bring  id  down  kerwhack  agin 
th'  ground  a  fut  ur  more  away  fram  th'  tay — that's  th' 
little  mud  hill  th'  ball  reshts  upon,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
But  fwhin  Oi  did  hit  it,  me  frind,  mebbe  th'  ball  didn't 
thravel.  'That's  a  cafoozle,'  sez  Dilmonicky.  'No,  it's  a 
pig-shtymie,'  sez  Toozy.  'It's  a  loo-loo,  that's  fwhat  id  is/ 
sez  Oi,  an'  thin  we  had  an  argymint  thet  kem  near  breakin' 
up  th'  game.  But  Oi  wint  along  playin'  antil  me  score  was 
up  to  noine  hundherd  an'  sivinty-noine,  fwhin  Oi  sed  Oi'd 
have  to  have  a  can  av  beer  afore  Oi'd  go  anny  further. 
Dilmonicky  an'  Toozy  sed  there  wasn't  a  dhrap  av  beer  an 
th'  rinks,  an'  wid  thet  Oi  gev  th'  ball  a  kick,  threw  down 
me  shtick  an'  sed  Oi  was  goin'  home.  'Oi  see  through  th' 
.whole  thing  now/  sez  Oi.  'This  gawr-rfs  is  a  Dubblyew- 
Tay-Say-U.  (W.  C.  T.  U.)  game  to  invaigl  payple  out  into 
th'  counthry  fwhere  they  can't  get  no  beer,  an'  '11  have  to 
dhrink  sassparilly  ur  oice  wather/  sez  Oi.  'Oh,  no,  not  at 
all,  Madame  Magoogin/  sez  Dilmonicky.  He  called  me 
Madam,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  I  thought  I'd  fall  in  a  fit. 
'Oh,  yis/  sez  Oi,  'An'  yis,  an'  yis  agin/  sez  Oi,  'an  Oi'm  goin' 
roight  back  to  Churry  shtreet  fwhere  th'  beer  flows  loike 
milk  an'  honey,  an'  th'  game  av  gawr-rfs  ur  the  Dubblyew- 
Tay-Say-U.'s  got  no  more  show  than  a  cat  without  claws 
in  th'  Owld  B'y's  place/  sez  Oi.  So  home  we  kem,  an'  Oi 
had  me  beer — two  cans  av  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty — an'  Ai 
was  happy  an'  satisfoied. 

"But  thet  wasn't  th'  ind   av   id,   Mrs.    McGlaggerty. 
Fwhin  Oi  got  up  th'  nuxt  mawrnin'  uv'ry  bone  in  me 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  149 

body  was  achin'  an'  Oi  felt  as  aff  Oi  had  bin  thrampled  an 
be  tin  million  billy  goats  ur  run  over  be  a  cable  caar.  Divil 
rattle  me,  me  frind,  aff  Oi  didn't  feel  worse  than  Lanty 
Maguire  fwhin  they  tuk  him  fram  undher  twinty-noine 
ton  av  coal  that  was  dumped  down  an  top  av  him.  Oi  was 
sore  in  uv'ry  sinew  an'  j'int,  an'  God  furgive  me,  but  th' 
pray'rs  Oi  sed  fur  Toozy  an'  Dilmonicky  war  annythin' 
but  th'  soort  thet  ud  do  thim  anny  gud.  Oi  rubbed  meseF 
wud  arnicky  an'  goose  graise  an'  turpintoine  an'  clilory- 
f ormy  limmint,  but  to  no  purpose,  fur  Oi'm  sore  an'  achin' 
all  over  yet,  an'  begorry  Oi  didn't  think  Oi'd  uver  get  th' 
roight  use  av  me  moind  an'  limbs  agin,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
"But  fwhat  puzzles  me  about  this  gawr-rfs  bezniss,  me 
frind,  is  how  thim  young  joods  an'  s'sci'ty  gerruls  plays  id 
noight  an'  day  an'  nuver  seems  to  be  anny  th'  worse  aff 
fur  id.  They  purtind  to  be  so  tinder  an'  ristycratic  that 
wan  id  think  they'd  not  be  able  to  carry  a  bushel  av  coal 
home  from  th'  grocer's,  an'  yet  they  f oind  nothin'  but  spoort 
in  th'  game  av  gawr-rfs,  fwhich  ud  wear  a  longshoreman 
down  to  a  shaddy  insoide  av  a  waik.  Upon  me  sowl,  so  far 
as  me-sel'  is  consarned,  Oi'd  sooner  do  tin  days'  scrubbin' 
an'  washin'  than  to  play  another  game  av  gawr-rfs,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty." 


SHE  "  CAME  OVER  "  ON  A  YACHT. 

"Faix  'n'  id's  manny's  th'  long  day  sence  Oi  rode  in  a 
yotch,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Sure,  an'  fwhin  did  ye  uver  roide  in  wan,  Mrs.  Ma- 
googin?" 

"Sure,  an'  didn't  Oi  come  over  to  this  counthry  in  wan, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty?" 


150  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

"Musha,  bad  rattle  ye,  that  wasn't  no  yotch ;  that  was  a 
sailin'  vessel,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Well,  f what's  a  yotch  but  a  sailin'  vessel?"  said  the 
Widow,  getting  ready  to  defend  herself  against  any  argu 
ment  her  neighbor  might  advance.  "Fwhat's  th'  deffrince, 
Oi'd  loike  to  know,  beehuxt  th'  boat  that  Oi  kem  over  in 
an'  wan  that  luks  th'  dead  peckthur  av  id,  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty?  No  deffrince,  ma'am,  uxcept  in  th'  names.  We 
called  ours  a  ship;  they  calls  their  a  yotch,  but  that  dizn't 
make  thim  anny  deffrint,  me  frind.  There's  manny  a 
thing  that  has  a  deffrint  name  to-day  that's  no  deffrint 
fram  fwhat  id  ushed  to  be  tin  or  twinty  years  ago,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty?  Uv'rybody  ushed  to  have  a  kitchin  in  th' 
house  twinty  years  ago ;  now  mosht  av  thim  have  fwhat  they 
call  kewzeens,  partecklarly  aff  they  have  mooney.  Fwhat 
we  always  called  our  bed  rooms  th'  gerruls  nowadays  refer 
to  as  their  boodywaurs.  Fwhy,  aiven  their  dhresses  they 
must  dizzignate  as  robes  an'  coshtooms  an'  they  Frinchifoy 
corn  bafe  an'  cabbidge  so  that  begorry  we  dasn't  ate  id  fur 
fear  av  makin'  a  mishtake. 

"An'  that's  th'  way  wud  th'  yotches.  Fwhin  Oi  towlt  me 
daughther  Toozy  that  Oi  rode  in  a  yotch  afore  she  was 
born,  she  up  an'  sez  to  me,  sez  she:  'Oh,  mimmaw!  how 
kud  you  say  sooch  a  thing  ?  Yotches  warn't  invinted  thin, 
mimmaw!'  'Oh,  they  warn't,  warn't  they?'  sez  Oi.  'No, 
they  warn't,'  sez  she.  'Thin  Oi  know  betther,'  sez  Oi,  fur 
didn't  Oi  come  over  to  this  counthry  in  wan  twinty-noine 
year  ago  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Oh,  that  was  a  tub !'  sez  she.  There's 
for  ye,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Th'  ship  that  Mrs.  Berdie 
Magoogin,  Esq.,  kem  over  in  an'  that  she  was  forty-noine 
days  an  the  wather  was  only  a  tub.  It's  a  wondher  she 
didn't  call  id  a  wather  buckit.  She  moight  as  well,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty!  That's  the  way  av  id,  howsomuver;  some 
calls  id  a  tub,  an'  some  a  yotch ;  but  id's  a  sailin'  vessel  all 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  151 

th'  same,  frind.  Sure  an'  wasn't  Oi  down  to  the  Eockaway 
Baich  th'  other  day  an'  didn't  Oi  see  th'  Columbia  bate  th' 
other  boats  an'  didn't  they  all  have  fwhoite  sails  an'  shpars 
an'  Jack  tars  jisht  th'  same  as  th'  ship  that  carried  me  over 
from  th'  Owld  Dart  ? 

"High-chooned  names  don't  make  things  anny  betther. 
Peyaters  tashte  the  same,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  f whether  ye 
call  them  plain  uv'ry-day  'Murphies'  or  ax  fur  boom-te-ra- 
ras  in  a  Frinch  reshtorong.  Toozy  towlt  me  Oi  ought  to 
ware  a  yochting  coshtoom  fwhin  Oi  wint  down  to  Kock- 
away,  but  to  tell  ye  th'  trooth  Oi  don't  loike  to  wear  thim. 
blyue  flannin'  shurts  wud  anchors  an'  th'  collars  av  thim, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty !  But  Oi'm  very  fond  av  th'  wather, 
me  frind.  Some  av  me  admoirers  at  Cooney's  Oisland  this 
summer  sed  Oi  was  a  reg'lar  say  nymph,  a  purfaick  murry- 
maid. 

"Th'  shkipper  av  th'  Columbia  wants  me  to  be  th'  mash- 
cot  aboord  his  yotch  fwhin  id  races  agin  th'  English  yotch, 
an',  begorry,  Oi  haven't  med  up  me  moind  yet  that  Oi 
won't.  But  Oi  was  turribly  saysick  fwhin  Oi  come  over 
an  th'  other  yotch,  an'  haven't  Oi  yet  forgotten  th'  retchin' 
an'  chokin'  Oi  had  thryin'  to  get  red  av  th'  faist  av  shpare 
ribs  Oi  had  afoore  th'  ship  sailed  from  Queenstown. 
Fwhiniver  Oi  think  av  id  Oi  don't  want  to  be  no  mashcot 
fur  th'  Columbia  ur  anny  other  yotch,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 


152  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 


THE  IEISH  IN  THE  PEIZE  KING. 

"Aha !    They  can't  bate  the  Oirish,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 

"'Throth  V  they  can't,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"There's  no  ushe  talkin',  me  frind,  but  th'  Oirish  ar'  born 
foighters." 

"Thrue  fur  ye,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"There's  no  gainsayin'  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the 
Widow.  "Manny's  th'  toime  they've  throied  to  do  thim, 
but  nobody  has  done  thim  yet.  Id's  very  foolish  th'  man 
is  that  goes  up  agin  an  Oirish  foighter.  Begorry,  he's  takiii' 
his  loife  in  his  hands  fwhin  he  diz  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
See  th'  min  that  John  L.  Soolivan  knocht  out ;  they  warn't 
no  more  than  reeds  in  th'  wind  afore  him;  they  kem  up 
an'  he  soaked  thim  in  th'  nick,  an'  they  wint  down  an' 
divil  th'  nother  worrud  was  uver  hurd  fram  thim  agin, 
me  frind.  Faix  V  John  was  a  gud  man,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  an'  a  great  pugilishtarian,  but  he  kudn't  let  th'  black 
bottle  alone,  alanna,  an'  id  soon  lowered  his  colors  in  th' 
dusht,  as  id  will  anny  man's  that  fools  wud  id,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty. 

"Yurra  wisha,  but  rum'll  get  th'  besht  av  annybody. 
There's  manny  av  iz  that  id  be  rich  an  livin'  in  ligzhery 
to-day  but  fur  that  same  curse,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  An* 
id's  not  the  Oirish  that  diz  all  th'  dhrinkin'  av  id,  nayther, 
me  frind.  Th'  Ditch  an'  th'  Oytalyuns  an'  th  'Frinch  an' 
Shkandiloovians  all  do  their  share  av  id,  Mavournecn. 
But  id  left  John  L.  Soolivin  fwhere  he  is  anyways,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  an'  nobody  knows  id  betther  nor  John. 
Fwhin  he  was  baiten,  though,  id  was  be  an  Oirishman  loike 
himseF;  there  was  that  mooch  anner  in  his  defait.  Him 
an'  Corbett  purtends  to  be  Americans,  but  id's  th'  Oirish 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  153 

blud  in  their  veins  that  towlt  th'  shtory  fwhin  they  wint 
into  th'  ring  to  foight,  an'  that  gev  thim  th'  victh'ry,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty.  But  that's  all  poppy  talk  about  thim  bein' 
Americans ;  id's  only  done  to  save  thim  i ram  bein'  arreshted 
for  foightin',  that's  all.  Ye  moight  as  well  say  that  a 
Ditchman  born  in  this  counthry  isn't  a  Ditchman. 

"Fwhy,  there's  Dinkenspiel's  b'y  that  was  born  in  For- 
sythe  sthreet  abow,  he  can't  talk  nawthin'  but  brokin  Ditch, 
an'  ye  don't  mane  to  tell  me  that  he's  American,  do  ye,  Mrs. 
MeGlaggerty  ?  Yis  he  is,  Oi  don't  think.  An'  no  more  is 
Soolivin  an'  Corbett.  They're  Oirish,  an'  be  th'  piper  that 
play'd  afore  Moses  afore  he  was  born,  id  ought  to  be  th' 
proudist  feather  in  their  caps,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Hurroo 
for  Tuam  an'  th'  County  Galway!  fur  that's  f where  Jim 
Corbett's  father  had  his  bringin'  up,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
an'  that's  f  where  th'  bone  an'  mooscle  an'  kane  joodgment 
was  growed  that  med  Jim  knock  th'  sivin  sinses  out  av 
that  beef-aitin'  shpalpeen,  Charley  Mitchell,  at  Jackson 
ville  th'  other  day.  An'  id's  goin'  to  make  him  kill  th' 
naygur  fwhin  they  come  together,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"Marruk  my  wurrud,  me  frind,  he'll  do  th'  naygur  up 
thrim  an'  aisy.  He'll  go  through  him  loike  a  philalyoo 
through  a  counthry.  Oi  don't  care  to  see  an  Oirishman 
foight  a  naygur  an'  gud  owld  John  L.  Soolivin  wudn't  do 
id,  but  fwhin  he's  goin'  to  do  id  at  all  he  moight  jisht  as 
well  do  id  accordin'  to  H'yle.  There's  no  doubt  he'll  do  id, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  The  naygur  wus  nuver  born  that  kud 
bate  an  Oirishman  wud  his  fishts  or  give  him  th'  fut,  aither. 
Aff  he  dizn't  kill  the  naygur  Oi'll  jine  th'  Cohinses'  syna 
gogue  in  Baxther  sthreet,  an'  go  boick  an  pigshead  an'  cab- 
bidge  an'  ate  nawthin'  but  motzes  an'  ganzgreeben  all  th' 
resht  av  me  loife,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Yis,  an'  Oi'll  be 
surkimshcroibed  into  th'  bargin,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty!" 


154  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 


THE  BROOKLYN  HANDICAP. 

"Wud  ye  uver  think  Oi  had  anny  spoortin'  bind  in  me, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 

"How  shud  Oi  know?  Sure,  an'  Oi'm  no  docthor,  Mrs. 
Magoogin." 

"Oh,  pshaw,  that's  not  fwhat  Oi  mane,  woman.  Oi 
doon't  want  ye  to  see  my  blud.  Oi'm  only  afther  axin'  ye 
wud  ye  uver  take  me  fur  a  spoort,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 

"Faix  'n'  ye're  spoorty  enoof  at  toimes,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Oi  know  id,  Oi  know  id,  me  frind,"  said  the  Widow, 
heartily  concurring  in  the  statement,  "but  Oi  nuver  thought 
Oi  was  a  rale  thoroughbred  antil  th'  other  day — last  Choos- 
day,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  fwhin  my  b'y  Tammy  that's  bin 
down  to  Cooney  Oisland  helpin'  th'  refawrmers  to  re- 
fawrm  id,  so  he  sez,  kem  home  an'  towlt  me  he  had  a  lead- 
poipe  stinch  an  th'  Brukeline  Handicap.  Don't  ye  know 
fwhat  a  lead-poipe  stinch  is,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  Fwhy, 
id's  fwhat  th'  spoorts  calls  a  sure  thing,  a  dead  sthraight 
tip,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty;  id's  something  ye  can't  lose  yer 
mooney  an  antil  ye  lose  id,  me  frind,  an'  thin  ye  don't  lose 
id  an  the  stinch  nayther,  for  the  raison  that  id  wasn't 
no  stinch  ur  ye  wouldn't  have  losht  annything  an  id,  do 
you  see,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  Well,  my  Tammy  had  th' 
stinch,  an'  he  gev  id  to  me,  do  ye  moind,  an'  Oi  gev  him  a 
byootiful  f oine  dollar — wan  av  th'  very  few  Oi  had — to  put 
on  id,  d'ye  undershtand?  An'  he  put  id  an  id,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty — he  put  id  an  id,  an'  id's  an  id  yet'  begorry,  an* 
Oi  shuppose  id'll  shtay  an  id,  bad  look  to  him.  Bannis- 
thaar  (Banastar)  is  th'  harse  that'll  ate  th'  others  up, 
mother,  sez  he.  TBannisthaar'll  win  in  a  walk,'  sez  he,  'an 
Oi'll  bring  ye  home  tin  dollars  fur  yer  wan,  mother,'  sez 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  155 

he.  'Musha,  God  bless  ye,  Tammy,  an'  here's  th'  dollar,  me 
bouchal,'  sez  Oi,  an*  Oi  up  an'  gev  him  me  foine  mooney, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  'Now  moind  me,  Tammy,'  sez  Oi  to 
him,  sez  Oi,  as  he  wint  out,  'now  moind  me,  aff  yer  stinch 
loses  me  dollar,  sez  Oi,  'ye  moight  as  well  not  come  boick/ 
sez  Oi,  'fur  Oi'll  lay  ye  out  fur  dead,'  sez  Oi.  Well,  fwhat 
do  ye  think,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  Tammy's  stinch  was 
nuver  in  id.  Begorry,  Bannisthaar,  thet  was  goin'  to  win 
in  a  walk,  nuver  showed  up  at  all  at  th'  ind  of  th'  race.  He 
may  have  doied  an  th'  thrack  fur  annything  that  Oi  know  to 
th'  conthrairy,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi  axed  me  daughther 
Toozy  about  id  fwhin  she  was  readin'  th'  paper  nuxt  day, 
an'  she  towlt  me  Bannisthaar  wasn't  one,  two,  six — which 
manes  that  his  name  was  Dennis  Mud,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
So  Oi  was  out  of  me  byootiful  dollar,  Mavourneen.  As 
fur  Tammy,  Oi've  nuver  laid  oyes  on  him  since  he  gev  me 
th'  stinch,  an'  Oi'll  give  him  a  p'inther  that  uff  he  knows 
f what's  gud  fur  him  he'll  sthop  away  until  Oi  furget  about 
himseF  an'  th'  stinch.  But  Oi'm  through  wud  harse  racin', 
me  frind.  Stinch  ur  no  stinch,  hereafter  thim  race  track 
fellows  '11  get  no  more  av  my  foine  mooney,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty!" 


HER  BOY  CUT  OUT  FOR  A  BALL  PLAYER. 

"Are  ye  there,  Mrs.  McGalggerty  ?"  the  Widow  shouted 
over  the  fence  to  her  neighbor. 

"Faix  'n'  Oi  am,  Mrs.  Magoogin,"  was  the  other  lady's 
response,  as  she  came  out  of  the  house  into  the  yard. 

"Thin  did  ye  see  anythin'  av  me  Tammy's  base  ball  bat, 
Oi  dunno  ?"  the  Widow  asked.  "He  left  it  around  here  in 
.the  yard  fwhin  the  sayson  closed  lasht  fall,  and  he  sez  he's 
incloined  to  think  your  husband,  Jurry,  schnaiked  it  away 


156  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

to  make  an  axe  handle  or  a  clothes  shtick  out  av  it.  Troth 
'n'  aff  he  did  that,  an'  Tammy  knew  fully  that  it  was  thrue, 
he'd  break  your  Jurry's  nick  in  th'  thwinklin'  av  an  oye, 
an'  not  laive  him  able  to  do  a  day's  work  fur  six  waiks.  Fur 
that  base  ball  bat  was  as  dear  to  me  Tammy  as  his  poor 
owld  father,  the  Lord  have  marcy  an  his  sowl,  now  ffiat 
he's  dead,  was  to  mesel'  fwhoile  he  was  livin'.  Tammy, 
do  ye  know,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  is  as  foine  a  base  ball  player 
as  there  is  in  the  counthry,  an'  wan  av  these  days  fwhin 
he  gets  a  littel  oulder  an'  toofer,  he'll  jine  th'  Goiants  an, 
be  shmokin'  tin-cint  cigars,  wearin'  his  hat  an  the  soide  av 
his  head  loike  a  proize  foighter,  callin'  uv'rybody  cully, 
an'  dhrawin'  more  mooney  than  an  Italian  opery  singer. 

"Tammy  is  jusht  cut  out  fur  the  purfession  av  ball 
playin'.  He  kudn't  be  a  dark,  bekase  he  don't  know  how 
to  wroite;  he  darsn't  be  a  jood,  fur  the  b'ys  'ud  pelt  mud 
at  him,  tear  his  clothes,  an'  mebbe  kill  him  into  the  bargain, 
an'  he  can't  be  a  hod-carrier,  loike  his  fayther  was,  bekase 
he's  too  lazy,  so  Oi  think  Oi'll  just  laive  him  run  the  sthreet, 
an'  aff  he  kin  kape  out  av  jail  antil  thin,  be  the  toime  he's 
two  yeers  owlder  he'll  be  able  to  be  afther  makin'  a  con- 
thract  to  pitch,  or  bat,  or  shtale  bases  wid  wan  club,  get  his 
thousand  dollars  advance  mooney,  an'  thin  go  over  an' 
hoire  out  to  some  other  club  regardless  of  his  fusht  con- 
thract.  He'll  be  a  great  shpoort,  wearin'  toight  pants  an' 
hoigh  collars,  an'  durin'  th'  winther,  fwhin  there's  no  ball 
playin'  he  kin  put  in  his  toime  aither  in  playin'  poker  or 
mashin'  the  gerls.  Ah,  moind  fwhat  Oi  tell  ye,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,  my  Tammy  may  be  a  toof,  but  he's  the  makin' 
av  a  vury  foine  ball  player  aff  the  polaice  '11  only  laive  him 
alone  afwhoile." 

"But  aff  he  misses  bein'  a  ball  player,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  there's  somethin'  betther  may  befall  him.  D'ye 
know  fwhat  Aldherman  McGuff  sez  about  Tammv  ?" 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  157 

"No,  Oi  don't,  anless  he  sez  he  ought  to  be  in  the  jail 
below,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Well,  thin,  as  smart  as  ye  are,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  he  sez 
no  sooch  thing,"  said  the  Widow,  with  more  equanimity 
than  she  usually  possesses  when  her  darling  is  assailed ;  "on 
th'  con'thry,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  he  shpakes  very  noicely 
av  th'  gorsoon,  an'  id  was  only  this  mawrnin'  he  pit  his 
ban'  an  the  lad's  head  an'  he  sez,  sez  he :  'Tammy,'  sez  he, 
'ye're  a  foine  brofH  av  a  b'y,  an'  wan  av  these  byootiful 
days/  sez  he,  shtrokin'  Tammy's  noice  black  head,  'p'raps 
ye'll  prab'ly  be  th'  Prisidint  av  th'  Noo-Noited  Shtates/ 
sez  he.  An'  begorry,  mebbe  he  moight  be — who  knows, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  Worser  b'ys  nur  Tammy  have  bin 
Prisidint.  Luk  at  Misthur  McKinley,  God  bless  him,  an' 
may  th'  sun  nuver  set  on  the  noight  that'll  bring  bad  look 
to  himsel'  an'  his  good  woif e — luk  at  McKinley ;  who'd  uver 
say  f  whin  he  was  a  b'y  that  he'd  be  th'  Prisidint  av  th'  Noo- 
Noited  Shtates,  fwhich  he  is,  an'  there's  no  gainsayin'  id, 
naither,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Av  coprse  there's  no  shance  av 
Tammy's  bein'  med  Prisidint  fur  some  toime  to  come,  fur 
the  b'y's  too  young  yet  aiven  to  casht  his  wote,  but  Oi 
think  his  head  is  takin'  a  turn  fur  pollyticks,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,  an'  d'ye  know  he's  axin'  to  go  to  the  nuxt  con- 
vintion  to  be  th'  mashcot  fur  the  Tammany  Hall  delegates, 
so  he  is.  Now  fwhat  d'ye  think  av  that  fur  a  b'y  hardly 
owld  enoof  to  woipe  his  own  nose  ?  He'll  go  to  that  convin- 
tion  an'  1'arn  how  Misther  McKinley  gets  to  be  Prisidint, 
an'  thin  mebbe  he'll  go  to  another  convintion  later  an* 
1'arn  how  somebody  else  diz  it,  an'  be  the  toime  that  id 
comes  around  to  his  turn  to  be  Prisidint  he'll  know  how  to 
do  id  himsel',  an'  be  Heavens  aff  he  doon't  his  moother  '11 
foind  out  an  'tell  'im.  Mark  my  wurruds,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  Aldherman  McGuff's  langwidge  '11  come  home  some 
day,  an'  be  the  tail  av  Paddy  O'Hara's  goat  fwhin  the  Ma- 


I58  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

googins  takes  possession  av  the  Fwhoite  House  there'll  be 
laws  pasht  that'll  incraise  the  wurrikin'man's  pay  an*  at 
th'  same  toime  free  owld  Oireland.  Ditch  Hinnery  says 
he'll  wote  fur  Tammy  when  he  runs,  an'  id's  as  well  that 
he's  med  up  his  moind  to  id,  for  fwhin  the  wotin's  goin' 
an  he'd  have  to  do  id  annyway  ur  we'd  put  himsel'  an' 
Toozy  an'  the  haby  out  in  the  alley  an'  tell  thim  divil  th' 
nother  boite  they'd  ait  in  my  house.  By  the  way,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  Toozy's  baby  is  doin'  roight  well.  It  haves 
hair  at  the  back  av  id's  nick  now.  Galway  shluggers, 
Tammy  calls  thim,  bad  sesht  to  'im." 


THE  BICYCLE. 

"Wurra,  wurra,  but  it's  mesel's  the  anfortnit  woman  in- 
toirely,"  said  the  Widow  Magoogin,  wiping  a  "dhrap  av 
wather"  out  of  the  corner  of  the  eye  with  the  hem  of  her 
apron. 

"What's  the  matther  now,  me  frind?"  asked  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,  coming  to  the  fence  and  thrusting  her  chr 
over  into  the  Widow's  yard. 

"Matther?"  said  the  Widow;  "no  matther  at  all,  but 
fwhat's  the  matther  wid  me  all  the  toime,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty.  Bad  luk  seems  to  have  markt  me  for  its  own,  an' 
bechuxt  fwhat  Oi  foind  av  it  fur  mesel'  an'  fwhat's  brung 
into  me  be  uv'rybody  that  begs  or  borries  it,  be  Heavens, 
it  seems  that  Oi'm  always  in  throuble.  Sure  an'  wasn't 
my  son  Tammy  carried  into  me  this  mawrnin'  out  av  an 
ambylance,  an'  isn't  he  now  lyin'  in  bed  wid  a  cut  an  th' 
tap  av  his  head  that  ye  kud  dhroive  a  sthreet  car  into 
widout  much  anconvanience  ?  It's  jisht  his  luk,  too,  fur 
aff  his  shkull  wasn't  shplit  open  thet  polaice  'ould  have 
a  hoult  av  him,  an'  it's  in  the  bowels  av  the  cooler  belyow 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  159 

he'd  be  reshtin'  now  inshtud  av  in  his  comfortible  bed. 
Faix  V  Oi'm  thinkin'  it  was  a  sore  day  to  me  f  whin  Tammy 
was  born,  fur  he's  gettin'  to  be  a  tumble  little  toof,  an' 
Oi'm  affeerd  that  aff  he  dizn't  die  a  natteral  death  purty 
sune  he'll  be  afther  breakin  'his  nick  an  the  gallows  wan 
av  these  foine  days;  an'  bechuxt  ourselves,  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty,  it's  no  more  nor  less  than  he  desarves.  But  to  come 
to  the  p'int,  as  the  man  sed,  fwhin  he  swallyed  the  darnin' 
needle,  Oi  was  in  the  parlor  this  mawrnin'  dishtin'  aff  th' 
Kinzintin'  foire  scrane  an'  th'  Shatshumy  vases  fwhin  a 
knock  kem  to  th'  dure,  an'  I  shouted  'Come  in/  Lo  an* 
behold  ye,  the  word  was  no  suner  out  av  me  mouth  than 
in  walked  two  big  polaicemin  an'  they  carryin'  my  Tammy 
in  their  arms  bechuxt  thim.  Well,  upon  my  wurrud,  I 
musht  have  got  as  fwhoite  as  your  Jurry's  fwhiskers,  an* 
me  knees  rattled  together  loike  I  had  the  agy.  'Is  he  dead  ?' 
sez  Oi.  'No,'  sez  they,  *but  he's  not  far  fram  it.'  'Who 
did  he  bate  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Nobody,'  sez  they.  'He  tuk  a  header 
fram  aff  a  boicycle.'  'Did  he  shtale  it?'  sez  Oi.  'No,'  sez 
they,  'he  jisht  tuk  it.'  'An  fwhat  was  it?'  sez  Oi.  'A 
header,'  sez  they;  'he  fell  an  his  forrud,'  sez  they.  'Thin 
divil  mind  him,'  sez  Oi,  'an'  it's  my  wish  that  it's  broke  his 
forrud,  he'd  done/  sez  Oi.  'Ahmin/  sez  they,  an'  wud  that 
they  pit  Tammy  an  the  bed  in  th'  parlor,  an'  there  he  lay 
wud  his  mouth  open  gashpin'  away  loike  as  aff  he  was  in  the 
lasht  ixthrimities. 

"But  divil  the  wun  bit  did  Oi  pity  him,  fwhin  Oi  hurd  th' 
shtory  th'  pelaicemin  towlt  about  him  thryin*  to  roide 
a  boicycle  that  he  found  shtandin'  an  the  paymint  outsoide 
av  a  shtore — tryin'  to  ride  it,  the  gintleman  said,  but 
it's  tryin'  to  shtale  it,  he  was.  He  got  up  an  th'  ma- 
sheen,  they  towld  me,  an'  he  was  no  suner  up  than  he 
was  down  agin  goin'  head  fusht  over  the  fwheel  into  a 
sthove  on  the  top  av  his  head.  Oi  thanked  the  min  fur 


160  WIDOW  MAGOOGIN. 

bringin'  him  home  an'  sint  out  a  little  b'y  that  was  passin* 
fur  a  can  av  beer  fur  thim,  fur  they  war  very  dhry  as  Oi 
kud  see  be  the  way  they  dhrank  it  all  up,  and  thin  aff  they 
wint.  But,  arrah,  wurrah,  to  think  that  my  Tammy,  not 
satisfied  with  bein'  a  toof  and  a  base  ball  crank,  an'  a  foor- 
round  foighter,  musht  go  an'  casht  suspicions  an  his  com 
mon  sinse  be  thryin'  to  roide  or  shtale  a  boicycle.  Sure 
an'  we  nuver  saw  annybody  roid  in  thim  things  fwhin  we 
war  gerls ;  the  young  min  av  our  days  had  more  respect  for 
thimselves  an'  for  iz.  May  th'  divil  pull  the  liver  out  av 
th'  man  or  min  that  invinted  the  boicycle,  an'  that's  the 
shweetest  pray'r  Oi  have  fur  thim,  an'  fur  the  spoider- 
legged  judes  that  diz  be  thryin'  to  shpoort  thimselves 
around  on  them.  They're  anlucky  conthrivances,  an'  aff 
my  Tammy  uver  agin  intinds  to  cloimb  anto  th'  back  av 
wan  av  thim  Oi  hope  the  owld  b'y'll  come  around  an'  shpit 
him  an  the  ind  av  his  fewrfSin'  fork ;  an'  fwhin  he's  dancin' 
around  on  the  red-hot  coals,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  it's  moighty 
little  toime  he'll  have  to  be  thinkin'  about  boicycles  or  bah- 
cycles  aither." 


THE  "  GIANTS  "  WANT  HER  FOE  A  MASCOT. 

''Bad  sesh  to  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  id's  the  great 
news  Oi  have  fur  ye." 

"An'  fwhat  news  is  id,  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 

"Oi'm  goin'  to  j'in  the  base  ball  club." 

"Arrah  is  that  so  ?  An'  fwhat  ar'  ye  goin'  to  j'in  the  base 
ball  club  fur,  Oi  doon't  know?" 

"To  be  their  mashcot,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the 
Widow,  smiling  her  sweetest.  "Well,  upon  me  sowl,  id 
made  me  laugh  mesel'  fwhin  Oi  was  towld  about  id,  for  id 


WIDOW  MAGOOGIN.  l6l 

was  an  hanner  that  kem  as  onexpectid  as  Mickey  Flannery's 
broken  leg,  an*  sorra  the  wan  av  Mickey  knew  id  was 
comin'  till  id  come  an'  he  had  id,  an'  that  was  th'  ind  av  id. 
But  this  is  how  id  was,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty:  Oi  was  down 
in  Finnerty's  grocery  belyow  proicin'  a  mack'ril,  fwhin  up 
walks  Lanty  Shlatthery  an'  he  sez  to  me,  sez  he :  'Mrs.  Ma- 
googin,'  sez  he,  'there's  a  great  dail  av  luck  in  your  fam'ly/ 
sez  he.  'Troth  'n  there  is,  Lanty,'  sez  Oi,  'an'  barrin* 
me  mother  bein'  kilt  be  a  jauntin'  car  an'  me  father  bein* 
dhrownded  at  say/  sez  Oi,  'an'  two  av  me  sisthers  catchin* 
the  cholery  an'  doyin'  wid  id,'  sez  Oi,  'there  nuver  was  a 
luckier  fam'ly  uver  throd  th'  ground,'  sez  Oi.  'Yis,'  sez 
Lanty,  sez  he,  'God  is  always  gud  to  th'  Oirish !'  TJegorry, 
ye're  roight  he  is,  Lanty,  avic,'  sez  Oi.  'An'  now,'  sez  he, 
'Oi'll  tell  yer  fwhat  Oi'd  loike  to  know,'  sez  he.  'An'  fwhat 
is  id,  Lanty,  avourneen  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Oi'd  loike  to  know,'  sez 
he,  'aff  ye'd  have  anny  objiction,'  sez  he,  'to  hoirin'  out  to 
the  Goi'nts,'  sez  he,  'to  sit  an  the  binch  fwhin  they're  playin* 
a  game  av  base  ball  an'  give  thim  gud  luck,'  sez  he.  'Is  id 
me?'  sez  Oi.  'Yis,  you,'  sez  he.  'Will  ye  be  the  Goi'nts* 
mashcot  nuxt  season?'  sez  he.  'Is  there  anny  mooney  in 
id?'  sez  Oi.  'Ooodles  av  id,'  says  he.  'Thin  Oi'm  th' 
Goi'nts'  mashcot,'  sez  Oi.  'All  roight/  sez  Lanty;  'Oi'lT 
sind  th'  manager  a  tellygraft  about  id/  sez  he,  an'  wid  that 
he  borried  twinty-foive  cints  fram  me  to  pay  the  tellygraft 
wid,  an'  now  Oi'm  waitin'  to  get  a  letther  wid  a  shoot  av 
clothes  an'  some  advance  money  in  id  from  th'  manager 
av  th'  Goi'nts,  an'  Oi'm  loi'ble  to  get  id  anny  minnit  in 
th'  day,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"My  b'y  Tammy  dizn't  belaive  a  wurrud  av  th'  shtory. 
He  sez  Lanty  Shlatthery  is  a  mug,  fwhativer  that  is,  an* 
that  he  simply  shtud  me  up  for  beer  mooney.  But  Tammy 
is  a  dang  little  bla'guard,  an'  nawthin'  else.  D'ye  know 
fwhat  he  sed  to  me  fwhin  Oi  towld  him  av  id  ?  'See  here, 


l62  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

mudder,'  sez  he,  'th'  only  ushe  you'd  be  to  a  base  ball  club/ 
sez  he,  'id  be  to  lind  thim  yer  face  fur  a  mashk' — he  nuver 
finished  fwhativer  he  had  to  say,  fur  Oi  hot  him  a  blyow 
behoind  the  poll  with  a  saucepan  that  sint  him  shpinnin' 
beyant  the  shtove.  But  nuver  moind,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
Wait  till  the  base  ball  saison  opins,  an'  ye'll  see  Mrs.  Berdie 
Magoogin,  Esq.,  the  mashcot  av  the  Noo  Yarrick  Goi'nts." 
And  the  Widow  moved  majestically  towards  her  shanty, 
singing: 

Nya-ha-ha,  my  love  Nell 

Is  a  divil  out  av — well, 
From  the  coasht  av  Cork  kem  she ; 

An'  she  weep'd  an'  she  wailed 

Fwhin  th'  big  ship  sailed 
For  the  shores  av  Ameroi-i-i-key. 


HER  DAUGHTER'S  FOOTBALL  PLAYER. 

"Wasn't  his  hair  lovely,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 
"Sure  'n'  whose  hair  ar'  ye  talkin'  about,  Mrs.  Ma 
googin  ?" 

"Sure  'n'  whose  id  it  be  but  Toozy's  young  man,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty?" 

"Oi  didn't  get  a  gud  luk  at  him,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 
"Faix  'n  Oi  didn't  get  a  very  gud  luk  at  him  mesel'," 
said  the  Widow,  "fur  didn't  Oi  have  to  sit  in  th'  kitchin 
all  th'  toime,  wud  th'  dure  closed  bechuxt  me  an'  th'  parlor 
fur  fear  that  Oi'd  opin  me  mout'  an'  give  th'  shnap  away, 
as  me  daughther  sed.  She  towlt  him,  do  ye  moind,  that 
she's  th'  daughter  av  a  millinyaire  an'  that  her  moother 
had  f urbid  her  uver  to  marry  a  man  that  played  f utball,  an* 
as  he's  fram  Yell  College  an'  is  a  futball  play'r  into  th' 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  163 

barg'n,  she'd  nuver,  no  nuver,  consint  fur  her  to  be  his 
woife,  so  she  purtinds  to  meet  him  clamdishtantly  loike,  as 
th'  lovers  diz  in  th'  shtory  bukes,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
She'd  inter jooced  me  to  him  as  her  moother's  washer 
woman,  an'  divil  th'  Avurrud  av  loie  she  was  tellin'  aither, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  fwhin  she  sed  so,  fur  aff  Oi  ain't  her 
mother's  washerwoman,  who  in  the  name  av  blissid  Pether 
is,  me  frind?  'Misther  DeCourcy  de  Colly wob,  this  is  me 
mimmaw's  washerwoman,'  sez  Toozy,  bo  win'  low  an'  grand 
loike  th'  ladies  an  th'  shtage.  'Aw,  Misther  DeCourcy  de 
Collywob,'  sez  Oi,  'Madam  Bedeliowski  Magooginincey, 
Esquoira,  is  deloighted  to  see  ye.  How  ar'  ye?'  sez  Oi. 
An'  wud  that  in  he  walkt,  an'  Toozy  towlt  him  that  she  had 
to  bring  him  here,  as  her  millinyaire  parints  had  detectives 
an  her  thrack,  an'  th'  polaice  was  an  th'  lukout  for  cranks 
an'  smashers  that  moight  give  her  anny  ann'yance.  Thin 
Oi  had  to  shkoite  into  th'  kitchin  an'  kape  an  oye  out  for 
Tammy,  lessen  he  moight  roon  in  an'  shpoile  uvrythin'. 

"Oi  wanted  to  ax  DeCoorcy  fwhy  he  twolt  Toozy  in  his 
letther  that  he  wrote  her,  fwhin  she  axed  him  to  meet  her 
at  th'  cawrner  av  th'  Bow'ry  an'  Delancey  Shtreet,  to  take 
her  to  th'  Harse  Show,  to  go  chase  herself,  because  Oi 
thought  id  wasn't  very  noice  av  him,  but  me  daughther 
Toozy  id  not  let  me  mintion  id  to  him.  She  towlt  me 
later  though  that  id  was  all  roight,  as  'go  chase  yerself 
was  a  playful  way  they  had  in  Noo  Haven  s'sci'ty  av  re- 
fusin'  invoites  to  go  to  places  loike  balls,  parties  an'  peck- 
nics.  Well,  afther  a  few  minnits,  Toozy  an'  De  Coorcy  wint 
out  to  the  futball  game  an'  that's  th'  lasht  that  Oi  saw  av 
him,  although  he  sed  that  he  moight  be  boick  an'  Oi  cuked 
a  foine  lot  av  corn  bafe  an'  cabbidge  an'  bought  a  tin-cint 
mince  poie  fur  th'  supper.  But  Oi  was  purfeckly  shtruck 
.be  his  hair,  *f  which  was  loike  a  watherfall  th'  way  id  fell 
down  aft  av  his  head.  Upon  me  wurrud  id  was  as  long  as 


164  WIDOW   MAGOOGTN. 

me  billy  goat's  fwhiskers  an'  purty  near  as  fwhoite.  Oi 
hope  that  he'll  marry  Toozy,  because  he  seems  to  be  a 
purty  noice  soort  av  a  b'y.  Oi  koind  av  loike  him,  an* 
my  Tammy  loikes  him,  too,  because  he's  a  spoort. 

"Oh,  my,  but  ye  ought  to  hear  th'  v'ice  an  him  fwhin 
he  yelled  out  'Hullaballoo  an'  fag  a  ballagh,  Yell!'  Oi 
thought  he'd  roise  th'  roof,  so  Oi  did,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty ! 
That's  th'  way  they  holler  in  the  futball  game,  he  sez, 
an'  it's  his  bezniss  to  do  most  av  th'  hollerin'.  But  his 
father  has  wagon  loads  av  mooney,  so  he  kin  affoord  to 
holler,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi  don't  know  how  id'll  be 
fwhin  Toozy  marries  him,  fwhich  she  may  nuver  do,  do 
ye  moind,  my  frind — but  Oi  think  spoortin'  loife  won't 
interfere  anny  wid  me  savin'  me  sowl.  There's  plinty 
av  Oirish  spoorts,  mavourneen.  Sure'n  there's  me  frind, 
Dick  Croker  es  gud  an'  foine  a  gintleman  as  uver  lived, 
he's  a  Jim  Dandy  spoort,  now,  an'  he's  goin'  to  christen 
a  race  harse  afther  me,  so  he  sez.  Now,  fwhat  do  you 
think  of  that,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?" 


ON  HOLLER  SKATES. 

'The  curse  av  Crum'll  an  the  man  that  fusht  invinted 
rowler  shkoits,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 

"Fwhy  fwhat  have  they  got  to  do  wid  you,  Mrs.  Ma- 
googin?" 

"Nothin'  at  all,  but  Oi've  had  a  great  deal  to  do  wid 
thim,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Is  that  so,  now?  Who'd  have  uver  belaived  id,  Mrs. 
Magoogin  ?" 

"Troth'n  Oi'd  hardly  belaive  id  meself,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,"  said  the  Widow,  half  penitently,  "war  id  not  that 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  l6$ 

Oi  had  such  a  painful  expairiance  wid  thim,  me  frind. 
Do  ye  moind,  alanna,  the  thrip  Oi  towld  ye  about  that  Oi 
was  goin'  to  take  to  Cooney's  Oisland  belyow.  Well,  bad 
luk  to  the  boat  that  tuk  me  down  the  bay;  but  Oi  tuk 
the  thrip  an'  fwhat  do  ye  think  Oi  wint  an'  did  the  momint 
Oi  put  me  fut  an  the  sandy  sile  av  the  place,  but  med  the 
biggest  fool  av  meself  that  anny  wan  uver  saw.  Fwhy, 
aff  Oi  had  a  cap  an'  bells  an,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an*  me 
face  painted  red  an'  fwhoite,  loike  the  clowns  in  Barnim's 
Circus,  the  divil  the  bigger  fool  Oi  kud  be. 

"An'  this  is  how  id  was,  me  frind :  Me  daughter  Toosey, 
that's  always  inthermeddlin'  wid  the  affairs  av  hoigh- 
chooned  socoiety,  is  dead  shtuck  an  rowler  shkoitin',  an* 
nothin'  else  id  plaise  her  fwhin  she  raiched  the  oisland 
but  she  musht  go  to  the  shkoitin'  rink  an'  shkoite.  So 
we  wint  an*  Toozy  shkoited.  They  rowled  about  the  flyure 
as  gracefully  as  the  archangel  Gabri'l,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
an'  th'  way  they  gloided  an'  shloided  was  purty  enoof  to 
make  annybody  soigh  an'  poine  fur  a  pair  av  rowler 
shkoites.  Afther  two  or  three  turns  upon  the  flyure, 
Toozy  kem  up  to  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  she  sez  to 
me,  sez  she,  'Fwhy  doon't  you  shkoite,  mimmaw  ?'  'Arrah, 
go  'way  out  av  that  an'  don't  be  afther  makin'  a  fool  av 
me/  sez  Oi.  'See  how  aisy  an'  noice  id  is,  mimmaw/  sez 
she,  twurlin*  herself  about,  an'  cuttin'  a  figure  noine  an 
the  flyure.  'Oi  see/  sez  Oi,  'but  id's  not  so  aisy  to  thim 
that  dizn't  know  how/  sez  Oi.  'You  can't  fall/  sez  she. 
'Oi  know  Oi  can't/  sez  Oi,  'an*  that's  fwhy  Oi'll  keep  me 
feet  as  they  ar',  sez  Oi. 

"But  she  wint  an  bantherin'  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an* 
all  the  shkoiters  gothered  about  me,  an'  be  gorry  afore  Oi 
knew  id  Oi  had  an  a  pair  av  the  rowler  shkoits  an'  a 
young  man  wid  a  fwhoite  cap  an  was  pilotin'  me  towards 
the  middle  av  th'  flyure.  'Don't  be  frecken'd/  sez  he, 


l66  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

fwhin  Oi  was  thrimblin'  all  over,  expectin'  to  have  wan  av 
th'  shkoites  go  from  andher  me  army  minnit,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty.  'Oi'm  not/  sez  Oi,  'but  aff  ye  laive  me  fall,' 
BGZ  Oi,  'Oi'll  brain  ye  fwhcre  ye  shtand/  sez  Oi.  'Nuver 
fear/  sez  he.  'Let  her  go,  Gallagher!'  Some  wan  in 
th'  crowd  shouted  at  this  minnit,  an',  bad  dang  to  him, 
fwhether  his  name  was  Gallagher  or  Grady  or  fwhat  not, 
he  let  me  go.  And,  ow,  wow!  but  fwhat  a  losin'  av  me 
einses  Oi  had  there  an'  thin !  Aff  an  ox  was  to  shtab  me 
wid  his  horns  Oi  kudn't  have  bin  more  bewildhered,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty.  Thim  little  fwheels  an  th'  shkoites  ar* 
frinds  av  th'  divil  himsel',  Oi  furmly  belaive.  Oi  kudn't 
howld  thim  shtill.  Wan  fut  wanted  to  go  wan  way,  an* 
th'  other  wanted  to  go  th'  other  way,  an'  bechuxt  them 
both  Oi  didn't  know  fwhat  in  th'  wuruld  to  do.  Uvry- 
body  was  lukin'  at  me  an'  uv'rybody  was  laughin'  at  me. 
Upon  me  sowl  id  musht  have  bin  a  picnic  fur  thim  fram 
the  way  they  seemed  to  be  inj'yin'  themsel's. 

"Well,  as  regards  poor  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  there  Oi 
was  thrimblin'  an'  tottherin',  not  knowin'  fwhich  way  to 
turn  fur  Sunday,  fwhin  all  uv  a  suddint  it  occurred  to  me 
that  aff  Oi  was  wanst  sittin'  down  Oi'd  be  all  roight.  No 
sooner  sed  then  done,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi  put  out  wan 
fut  to  take  a  sait  an'  the  flyure  an'  wud  ye  belaive  me  that 
minnit  the  other  fut  wint  fram  undher  me.  an'  up  flyed  both 
legs  in  the  air  an'  down  Oi  sot  an  th'  broad  av  me  boick. 
Me  dhress  was  up  about  me  head,  all  the  shkoiters  was 
roarin'  an'  Oi  thaught  Oi  was  kilt  intoirely.  Oh,  the 
morthiafication  av  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !  Oi  blished 
roight  up  to  the  roots  av  me  eyebrows.  An'  mebbe  Oi 
wasn't  mad,  too.  Whin  foive  or  six  av  thim  carried  me 
into  a  corner  an'  tuk  the  rowler  shkoites  aff  av  me  Oi  was 
goin'  to  clane  out  the  whole  place,  an'  off  Oi  kud  only  have 
laid  me  hands  that  minnit  an  me  Toozy,  her  loife  id  not 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  167 

be  worth  as  mooch  as  a  miskitty's  shpit.  Oi  have  id  in 
fur  her  yet,  nuver  moind,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  fur  me  boick 
is  nearly  brokened,  so  id  is.  But  fwhisper,  me  frind, 
nuver  pit  rowler  shkoites  an  yer  feet !  They'll  make  a 
fool  av  ye.  Upon  me  wurrud  they  will,  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty." 


HORSEBACK  RIDING. 

"Fwhishper,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 

"Arrah,  f what  is  id,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"How  do  you  think  Oi'd  be  afther  lukin'  an  horseboick  ?" 

"Faix  'n  Oi  don't  know.  Oi  never  saw  ye  an  top  av  a 
horse,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Well,  then,  ye'll  not  be  long  so,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty/' 
said  the  Widow,  "fur,  do  ye  moind,  a  purfessher  av  ridin' 
was  here  to  see  me  to-day  an'  Oi  pramist  him  Oi'd  go  up  to 
his  acadaimy  nuxt  week  an'  take  a  few  lessons  fram  him 
an  th'  inshtalmint  plan — that  is  to  say,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
that  aff  he  doon't  make  me  the  purtiest  roider  that  uver 
rode  along  the  bully ards  in  Cinthral  Parruk  divil  th'  cint 
he'll  charge  me  at  all,  at  all,  fur  taichin'  me,  he  sez,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty. 

"Fwhat's  that  ye  say?  Aff  he  kills  me?  How  in  the 
name  of  common  sinse,  woman,  is  he  goin'  to  kill  me? 
Sure  an*  amn't  Oi  ridin'  in  the  Third  av'noo  cars  uvery 
day,  an'  fwhin  Oi  eshcape  thim  wud  me  loife,  how  in  the 
bluddy  nuvers  is  wan  little  horse  goin'  to  kill  me,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty?  Moind  ye,  Oi'm  not  goin'  to  roide  anny 
race  horses,  me  frind,  ur  locymotyives  ur  coiclyones,  but  a 
noice,  paiceable,  asiy-goin',  dacint-moinded  horse  that'll 
go  along  about  its  own  business  an'  not  thry  to  bate  graised 


168  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

lightnin*  ur  dash  through  the  shtreets  loike  a  philalyoo 
through  a  counthry. 

"The  purfessher  sez  Oi  have  a  foine  figger  fur  horse- 
boick  ridin',  an'  he  sez  Oi'll  atthract  a  great  dail  av  atten 
tion  fwhin  Oi  roide  out  in  th'  parruk  afther  Oi  get  me 
lessons  all  1'arned.  It's  me  intintion,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
to  sit  bowlt  uproight  in  me  saddle  an'  not  to  be  jigglety- 
joggletin'  up  an'  down  loike  some  av  the  sassoiety  heifers 
that  Oi  sees  roidin'  an  the  bullyard.  Begorry,  but  id 
makes  me  saysick  to  luk  at  thim  hoity-toityin'  an'  bouncin* 
out  av  the  saddle  loike  they  diz.  Fwhin  Oi  roides  they'll 
be  none  av  that  nonsinse,  an'  Oi'll  have  a  foine  fwhoite 
horse,  too,  an'  a  roidin'  habit  that'll  knock  th'  town  silly. 

"There's  a  pair  av  my  Dinnis's  owld  pants — God  resht  his 
sowl — Oi'll  have  thim  med  over  for  mesel'  an'  a  long  black 
welwet  gownd  atop  av  id,  an*  a  ploog  hat,  an'  oh,  my,  but 
mebbe  Oi  woon't  be  shwell !  How's  that,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty  ?  Is  id  me  roide  shtraddle-legged  loike  a  man  ?  No, 
ma'am !  Nuver !  Ella  Fwheeler  Pillbox  an'  Mrs.  Frank 
Lislee  an'  the  numbers  av  the  S'soi'ty  Club  may  roide  saw- 
book  fashion,  but  Berdie  Magoogin's  not  in  fur  shtoyle  at 
th'  uxpinse  av  her  shpoinal  maginnis,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
My  b'y  Tammy  sez  Oi'll  break  the  horse's  boick  fwhin  Oi 
gets  an  him,  but  all  Oi  have  to  say  to  that  is  that  Oi'll  break 
Tammy's  boick  aff  Oi  hear  anny  more  remarruks  fram 
him  dogarogatherry  to  his  mother's  charachther,  ur  her 
corporossithy,  aither.  D'ye  moind  that,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty?" 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  169 


ARETHUSA  AN  AMATEUR  PHOTOGRAPHER. 

"Well,  well,  well,  do  ye  know  fwhat  news  Oi  have  fur  ye 
this  f  oine  mawrnin',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 

"Faix  V  Oi  do  not,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Thin  lain  over  here,  aeushla,  an'  Oi'll  tell  id  to  ye  in  a 
pig's  fwhishper." 

The  neighbor  bends  a  willing  ear  across  the  fence  and  the 
Widow  continues  to  talk. 

"My  daughther,  Toozy,  bad  scran  to  her,  has  med  up 
her  moind  to  be  an  ammychewer  photyograffer,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty." 

"God  bless  iz  woman,  an*  f  what's  that  ?" 

"An  ammychewer  photyograffer,"  said  the  Widow,  "is 
wan  that  dizn't  know  the  fusht  divil's  ha'p'orth  about 
makin'  photyograf ts,  but  makes  thim  anny  how,  an'  thinks 
their  pecthures  knocks  th'  spots  aff  av  Sur  Rooney  ur 
Misthur  Dana  av  th'  Sun,  an*  all  th'  other  photyograffers 
wud  big  riputation  that  takes  payple's  pecthurs  in  Noo 
Yarrick  city.  Oi  doon't  know  fwhat  uver  pit  th'  oidaya 
into  Toozy's  head,  but  Oi  shuppose  id  was  that  little  bow- 
legged  an*  yally-nickt  Ditch  husban'  av  hers,  that's  always 
talkin'  av  music  an*  art  an'  that  knows  no  more  about 
aither  than  Paddy  Hacken's  goat  that's  bin  dead  these  tin 
years  knows  about  fwhat's  goin'  on  in  Roosevelt  shtreet 
this  blissid  minnit,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"Well,  howsumuver  id  kem  about,  Toozy  bought  hersel* 
a  hog's  oye  camery,  an'  brought  id  home  wud  her  in  hoigh 
feather.  'Now,  mimmaw,'  sez  she — she  calls  me  mimmaw: 
Bhtill  jusht  th'  same  as  aff  we  wus  goin'  in  s'soi'ty  an'  shpint 
.th'  summer  at  Saratogy  an'  Cooney  Oislan'  loike  the  resht 
av  th'  big  bugs.  'Now,  mimmaw,'  sez  she,  'Oi'll  take  yer 


I?O  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

peckthur.'  'An'  how'll  ye  take  id,  Toozy,  darlint  ?'  sez  Oi. 
'Wud  me  hog's  oye  camery/  sez  she.  'Wud  that  little  black 
box,  is  id?'  sez  Oi.  'Yis/  sez  she;  'come  out  in  th'  yard, 
f where  it's  loight  an'  broight,  mimmaw/  sez  she.  'Very 
well,  Toozy  dear,'  sez  Oi,  an'  out  we  wint  into  th'  yard.  'Sit 
down  there  on  that  rock,'  sez  she,  an'  down  Oi  sot  fwhoile 
she  wint  as  far  as  from  here  to  th'  goat  over  there  beyant 
an'  began  p'intin'  the  box  at  me.  'Shmoile,  mimmaw/  sez 
she.  'Very  well,'  sez  Oi,  an'  Oi  shmoiled  me  very  shmoiled- 
est.  Clickedy-click  wint  somethin'  insoide  av  th'  box,  an* 
'There,  mimmaw/  sez  Toozy,  'yer  peckthur's  tookened/ 
'Already/  sez  Oi.  'Yis,  already,  mimmaw/  sez  she;  'but 
ye'll  have  to  wait  until  to-morry  to  see  id/  sez  she. 

"Oi  waitid,  an'  fwhin  Oi  saw  id  do  ye  know  fwhat  it 
luked  loike,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?  Oi'll  howld  ye  tin  dollars 
ye  don't  an'  nobody  else,  naither.  Begorry,  Oi  was  that 
mad  Oi  kud  cry,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  There  Oi  was,  wud 
wan  oye  out  intoirely,  half  av  me  head  bald  as  Tammy 
Grass's,  me  hands  was  th'  soize  av  Fourth  Av'noo  harse 
caars,  an'  there  was  a  craise  across  me  chesht  as  aff  a 
thruck  had  run  over  me.  'Saints  aloive,  Toozy !  an'  is  thia 
me?'  sez  Oi.  Tis,  mimmaw,  it's  you/  sez  she.  'Howly 
mother  av  Moses,  an'  do  Oi  luk  loike  that?'  sez  Oi.  'Well, 
mimmaw,  ye'd  have  luk'd  a  little  betther  in  th'  peckthur 
only  ye  moved  fwhin  Oi  was  takin'  th'  peckthur/  sez  she. 
'Divil  th'  move  Oi  moved/  sez  Oi;  'id  musht  have  been 
yersil'  that  moved,  an'  be  th'  same  token/  sez  Oi,  'aff  ye 
doon't  move  that  hog's  oye  camery  out  av  my  house  this 
murtherin'  minnit/  sez  Oi,  'Oi'll  shmash  yerseP  an'  idsel* 
into  a  thousan'  pieces/  sez  Oi.  'Oh,  mimmaw/  sez  she. 
'Doon't  oh,  mimmaw,  me/  sez  Oi,  'but  take  id  away  before 
Oi  hit  id  a  rap  av  th'  Tammyax/  sez  Oi.  She  pouted  an* 
croied  an'  sed  she'd  make  me  a  betther  peckthur  by-'n'-by, 
but  Oi  med  her  h'ist  th'  camery  over  to  th'  Hoolihans 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

acrass  th'  way,  fwhere  they  have  id  now,  bad  luk  to  id  an* 
thim  that  inwinted  id,  too. 

"Me  daughther  sez  she's  bound  to  be  an  ammychewer 
photyograffer  fwhether  Oi  loike  id  ur  no,  an*  Oi  shuppose 
she  will,  but  Oi'll  nuver  forgive  her  th'  thrick  she  pled  upon 
me  until  she  goes  over  to  Hinnery's  Ditch  mother  an'  takes 
a  peckthur  av  her.  Aff  she  only  makes  her  luk  one-half 
as  hayjeous  as  she  med  me  luk  Oi'll  ax  her  pardon  for 
foirin'  th'  hog's  oye  camery  out  av  th'  house,  an'  Oi'll  con- 
sint  that  she's  th'  foinest  ammychewer  photyograffer  in 
th'  Noo-Noited  Shtates,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Jisht  let  her 
make  Hinnery's  mother  luk  loike  a  bologny  sassige  shtrick 
be  a  railrood  thrain  an'  Oi'll  give  her  me  blessin'  an'  a  tin- 
cints  bokay  av  th'  besht  flyowers  Oi  can  foind  an  th'  Bow'ry, 
'pon  me  wurrud  an'  banner,  so  Oi  will,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  I" 


PHYSICAL  CULTUKE. 

"Hurroo,  there,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty!" 

"Fwhat  is  id  now,  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 

"Do  ye  know  fwhat  me  daughther  Toozy's  head's  turnin* 
an  now,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?" 

"Throth  V  Oi  doon't,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Thin  Oi'll  till  ye,"  said  the  Widow,  fixing  her  mouth 
to  enunciate  the  words.  "Id's  physicky  counthry,  ur  cul- 
thry,  ur  somethin'  av  that  koind  that  a  woman  named  Mc- 
Ginniss  Miller  invinted;  an'  fwhatuver  id's  name  is  id's 
th'  divil's  own  goin's  an,  anny  ways,  an'  Oi  can't  see  how 
anny  sinsible  woman  kin  throuble  her  brains  about  id. 
Toozy  goes  up  to  th'  gymnazeem  an  Fift'  Av'noo  uv'ry  day 
an'  has  a  lesson  in  bindin'  hersel'  this  way  an'  that  an* 
t'other  way  'till  wan  id  think  she'd  break  uv'ry  bone  in  her 
carciss.  My  son,  Tammy,  calls  id  'bindin'  the  crab'  an* 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

'shkinnin'  th'  cat,'  an'  tells  hep  she  ought  to  use  shnake 
oil  to  rub  an  her  shpoine  th'  way  th'  boneless  min  diz  in  th' 
serkus.  'Posin','  Toozy  calls  id.  She  sez  id  makes  her 
graceful  an'  soople  an'  that  bimeby  she'll  be  as  f oine  a  figure 
an'  as  byootiful  a  craythur  as  Paddy  Miles's  Vaynus,  that 
was  th'  purtiest  woman  th'  wurruld  uver  hild.  Oh,  my! 
but  Oi  wish  ye  kud  see  her  wanst,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
shwingin'  her  arrums  an'  cranin'  her  nick  loike  a  crazy 
woman.  'Id's  so  noice,  mimmaw !'  she  sez  to  me  as  she 
flings  hersil'  around  an'  nearly  dishlockits  her  showldher. 
'Oi'm  glad  ye  loike  id,'  sez  Oi,  'fur  dang  th'  bit  av  fun  Oi 
see  in  id,'  sez  Oi.  'Id's  Greek,  mimmaw,'  sez  she.  'Oi 
wudn't  care  a  rap  aff  id  was  Schandinovian,'  sez  Oi. 
'You're  not  poethick,  mimmaw,'  says  she.  'No,  nur  Oi'm 
not  crazy,  naither,'  sez  Oi.  'Id  develops  th'  limbs,'  sez  she. 
'So  diz  carryin'  coal  an'  shcrubbin'  the  flure,  Toozy,  agrah/ 
sez  Oi.  'But,  oh,  mimmaw,  that's  so  vulgar,'  says  she.  Oh, 
id  is,  is  id  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Thin  Oi'll  let  ye  know  me  gay  burrud/ 
sez  Oi,  'that  a  betther  woman  than  you'll  nuver  be  has 
shcrubbed  the  flure,  and  that's  yer  mother,'  sez  Oi;  'an* 
she  doon't  think  id's  a  dang  bit  vulgar,'  sez  Oi,  'though 
id  may  be  harder  than  wroitin'  poethry  ur  aitin'  oice  craim/ 
sez  Oi.  She  shtuck  up  her  nose  at  me  an'  Oi  gev  her  a 
shwoipe  av  the  broom  handle  that  nearly  broke  her  poll 
for  her,  Mrs.  MeGlaggerty.  Fwhat  nonsinse!  Physicky 
culthry  is  the  latest  play  t'y  that  s'soi'ty  has  tuk  howld  av. 
They  loie  an  their  backs  an'  kick  up  their  heels  an'  luk 
loike  a  moonkey  wud  the  jim-jams.  But  fwhishper,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  they  wears  two-legged  shkirts.  Ye  ought  to 
see  thim.  Begorry,  Oi'd  suner  pit  an  pants  to  wanst  an'  be 
done  wud  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty — pants  is  daycint  along- 
soide  av  th'  things  they  wears.  Oi  say  physicky  culthry  to 
ye,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 


PUKELY  PERSONAL 


PURELY  PERSONAL. 


SHE  GETS  VACCINATED. 

"War  ye  vaccinated  yet,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 
"No,  ma'am,  Oi  war  not,  Mrs.  Magoogin !" 
"Faix,  thin,  Oi  war,  an'  Oi  come  purty  near  bein'  guilty 
av  murdher  in  consequince  av  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 
"How  in  th'  wurruld  was  that,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 
"Fwhisper  a  minnit  an'  Oi'll  tell  ye,"  said  the  Widow, 
in  a  quite  confidential  tone.  "Ye  musht  know,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,  that  th'  Boord  av  Health  is  vaccinatin'  uv'ry- 
body  so  that  they  kin  purvint  the  shmallpox  fram  breakin' 
out  in  th'  city,  an'  docthors  ar'  goin'  'round  knockin'  at 
dures  an'  shtabbin'  payple  in  th'  arrums  wud  pinknoives 
as  purmishkous  as  aff  we  war  so  manny  buttherfloies  that 
they  war  playin'  mumblypegs  an,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  They 
shtick  moicrobies  an'  sillybuses  into  payples'  systems  to 
wandher  around  an'  grow  up  an'  get  shtrong,  so  that  f  whin 
th'  shmallpox  moicrobies  f  which  they  calls  th'  jims  of  th' 
disaise  tackles  ye,  th'  vaccineated  moicroibes  jumps  up  an* 
gives  thim  fwhat  Paddy  gev  th'  dhrum,  a  roight  gud 
baitin',  an'  dhroives  thim  aff  wud  a  warnin'  not  to  come 
boick  aff  they  doon't  want  to  get  th'  reg'lar  owld  goss  th* 
nuxt  toime.  In  that  way  th'  shmallpox  is  mirvinted  an* 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

yer  fam'ly  is  saved  a  very  expinsive  Sunda'  funeril,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty. 

"Oh,  id's  a  very  gud  thing  as  far  as  id  goes,  this  vaccin- 
eatin'  bizniss,  me  frind,  but  sometoimes  id  goes  intoirely 
too  far — yis,  ma'am,  intoirely  too  danged  far,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty.  That's  fwhat  Oi  towld  th'  little  shnip  av  a 
docthor  that  vaccineated  me  yishterda',  me  frind.  He 
kem  to  th'  house  wid  a  schmoile  an  him  loike  wan  av  thim 
long  shticks  av  red,  fwhoite  an'  blyue  candy  an'  towlt  me 
his  buzniss  an'  sed  wud  id  be  convaynient  to  me  to  be  vac 
cineated  there  an'  thin  upon  th'  shpot.  Oi  towlt  him  that 
Oi  had  been  vaccineated  on  the  same  shpot  tin  diffrint 
toimes  an'  id  had  nuver  tuk.  'Fwhere's  th'  shpot?'  sez  he. 
'On  me  arrum,  sir,'  sez  Oi.  'Oh,  thin  we'll  fix  that,'  sez  he, 
wid  a  toss  av  his  head,  as  mooch  as  to  say,  nuver  moind, 
Oi'm  th'  b'y  to  fix  annythin',  d'ye  see,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
'An'  how'll  ye  fix  id,  docthor  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Oi'll  vaccineate  ye 
an  th'  leg/  sez  he.  'An  whose  leg  ?'  sez  Oi,  bleshin'  up  to  th' 
roots  av  me  hair.  'An  your  leg,  to  be  coorse,'  sez  he. 

"Well,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  upon  me  sowl  ye  nuver  seen 
a  man  so  badly  shkairt  in  all  yer  loife.  Oi  pickt  up  th' 
foire  shovel  an'  Oi  med  a  lep  at  him.  'How  dar'  ye  insoolt 
me?'  sez  Oi,  makin'  a  shwoipe  at  him  wud  th'  waypon. 
But  he  ron  into  th'  parlor,  wud  me  afther  him,  an'  round 
an'  round  an'  up  an'  down  th'  house  Oi  chased  him,  givin' 
him  a  welt  now  an'  thin  av  th'  shovel,  an'  throwin'  in  a  big 
piece  av  me  moind  wud  ev'ry  blyow.  He  axed  me  pardin 
twinty  toimes,  but  id  wasn't  antil  Oi  got  toired  an'  had  to 
sit  down  to  dhraw  me  breath  that  Oi  let  up  an  th'  poor 
divil.  Thin  he  towlt  me  that  he  meant  no  harrum  be 
fwhat  he  sed,  but  that  all  th'  bong-tons  on  Fift'  Av'noo  was 
gettin'  thimselves  vaccineated  on  th'  leg  an'  id  was  a 
very  fash'nible  an'  fastayjeous  practice.  Oi  accepted  his 
apologies  an'  eshcused  him,  but,  'see  here,  sir,'  sez  Oi,  'ye 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

ought  to  be  more  carefuller  in  the  way  ye  talk  to  daycint 
payple  about  their  legs/  sez  Oi.  Oi'm  not  ashamed  av  me 
legs/  sez  Oi,  'but  they're  not  on  exhibition,  an*  fwhat's 
more  they  nuver  will  be/  sez  Oi. 

"So  he  vaccineated  me  on  th'  left  arrum,  as  ye  see,  an' 
wint  away  bowin'  an*  shcrapin'  loike  a  Philamedelphia 
1'yer,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?  But  f what  d'ye  think  av  th'  Fiff 
Av'noo  ladies  an'  their  legs,  me  f  rind  ?  Fwhy  should  they 
have  their  legs  vaccineated?  Who  th'  divil  kin  they  be 
showin'  thim  to  all  th'  toime  ?  Who'll  see  their  vaccineates 
anny  more  than  they  see  th'  doimonds  they  wear  in  their 
garters?  Oi'm  sure  Oi  can't  andhershtand  their  oidaya 
av  bein'  vaccineated  an'  th'  legs.  But  it  musht  be  very  in- 
joyable  work  fur  th'  docthors,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 


SUPERFLUOUS  FLESH. 

"How  mooch  d'ye  weigh,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?" 

"Sorra  the  wan  av  me  knows,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"How  mooch  d'ye  think  ?" 

"Oi  doon't  know  that,  naither,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Well,  give  a  guess,  thin,  at  how  mooch  diz  Oi  be  afther 
weighin',  d'ye  think?" 

"Two  hoondhert  an'  tin  poun's." 

"Well,  ye  kem  purty  near  id,  me  frind,"  said  Mrs.  Ma 
googin.  "Oi  wint  onto  th'  shkales  at  the  Bohaymian's 
groc'ry  jisht  belyow  the  Ditchman's  this  mawrnin'  an'  had 
mesel'  weighed,  an'  d'ye  know  Oi  nearly  broke  th'  masheen? 
Oi  socked  id  to  'im  fur  two  hoondhert  an'  sixty  poun's,  an* 
begorry,  Oi'm  thinkin'  that  aff  Oi'd  had  me  bruckkish  Oi'd 
a  med  id  tin  poun's  more,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Two  hoon 
dhert  an'  sixty  poun's  is  quoite  a  loomp  av  a  woman,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty.  Id's  the  pitaytees  Oi  ates  that  pits  the  fat 


i;8  WIDOW  MAGOOGIN. 

an  me.  Luk  at  that  choonk  av  flesh,  me  frind,"  pinching 
up  and  exhibiting  the  red  skin  on  one  of  her  arms. 
'•'There's  oleoparishgreen  fur  ye,"  as  me  daughther  Toozy 
sez,  fwhin  she  throies  to  be  hoigh-chuned  an'  Bostonaised 
in  her  languidge.  'Bloat'  Tammy  calls  id.  'Mudder/  he 
sez  to  me,  sez  he,  fwhinuver  he  sees  me  takin'  a  cup  av 
beer,  'mudder/  sez  he,  'ye're  makin'  a  beer  bloat  av  yersel'/ 
sez  he  /an  aff  ye  doon't  let  up  an  th'  growler,'  sez  he,  'th' 
Ditch'll  be  comin'  aroun'  here  to  get  ye  to  play  th'  queen 
fur  thim  an  their  book  beer  day,'  sez  he.  Th'  lasht  toime 
he  gev  me  this  koind  av  shlack  Oi  boxed  his  ears,  an*  he 
wint  out  av  th'  house  threatenin'  to  become  a  long  Dinnis 
player  an'  make  a  shmash  an  some  Hobokin  heiress  that 
id  marry  him  fur  his  figger  an'  his  red,  fwhoite  an'  blyue 
flannel  shoot.  'Go  an  my  shwate,  bad  look  go  wid  ye !'  sez 
Oi,  an'  he  rin  as  fasht  as  he  kud  to  get  out  av  th'  way  av 
th'  carvin'  knoife  that  Oi  flung  afther  'im.  Th'  oidaya  av 
tellin'  me  that  Oi  was  bloated,  an'  that  Oi'd  make  a  gud 
queen  av  th'  book  beer  day  fur  th'  Ditch !  But  Toozy's 
uv'ry  bit  as  bad  as  him.  Fwhat  diz  Toozy  do,  the  mud 
aiter  that  she  is,  but  up  an'  tells  me  that  Oi  ought  to  go 
to  a  docthor  to  get  some  av  the  fat  aff  av  me.  'Fwhat  fur  ?' 
sez  Oi.  'To  make  yersel'  thin,'  sez  she ;  'so's  ye'll  not  be  in 
fear  av  shmotherin'  to  death  fwhin  ye  go  to  bed,'  sez  she. 
'An'  fwhat'll  the  docthor  do  fur  me?'  sez  Oi;  'make  me 
dhrink  vinegar  Oi  shuppose?'  'No,'  sez  she,  'he'll  pit  ye 
through  th'  banty  proshesh,'  sez  she.  'An'  f what's  that?' 
sez  Oi.  'Loike  Fanny  Divvinpoort,'  sez  she.  'Th'  acthress  ?' 
sez  Oi.  'Yis,'  sez  she.  That  had  th'  divoasht?'  sez  Oi. 
'Th'  same,'  sez  she.  'An  is  id  me  to  get  a  divoasht?' 
sez  Oi.  'No/  sez  she,  'but  ye  kin  bant  loike  Fanny  Divvin 
poort/  'Oh,  Oi  kin,  kin  Oi?'  sez  Oi,  goin'  to  give  her  a 
clout  undher  the  lug,  but  Oi  thawt  Oi'd  laive  her  explain 
hersel'.  'An'  f  what's  th'  bantyin'  ye  do  be  talkin'  about?' 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  179 

sez  Oi.  'He'll  say  not  to  ait  any  mait  ur  peetayties/  sez 
she.  'There  now/  sez  Oi,  shtoppin'  her,  'that'll  do/  sez 
Oi;  'say  no  more  about  id,  fur  aff  id  gev  me  th'  figger  av 
th'  Vanus  dee  medicine/  sez  Oi,  'Oi'd  not  go  back  an  me 
peetayties  I'  sez  Oi.  There  was  plenty  more  sed,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty,  but  that  was  th'  sinse  an'  subshtince  av  thj 
dishkushin',  an'  there  we  shtand  to-day.  Toozy's  in  fur 
bantyin'  me  an'  Oi'm  not  in  fer  bantyin',  so  ye  see,  the 
shtoyles  is  goin'  to  th'  divil,  but  peetayties,  God  bless  thim, 
is  thrumps,  an'  Berdie  Magoogin,  Esq.,  is  fat,  fair  an' 
O'Fay,  as  they  sez  in  Frinch,  an'  whouver  don't  loike  th' 
way  she  luks  kin  kiss  her  fut,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 


AN  EXPEKIENCE  IN  TABLE  ETIQUETTE. 

"Did  ye  uver  see  me  ate,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?"  the 
Widow  Magoogin  asked,  as  she  tried  to  pry  out  an  eyetooth 
with  a  one-pronged  fork. 

"Oi  nuver  did,  Mrs.  Magoogin;  that  is,  nuver  to  take 
notice  av  it,"  the  neighbor  answered. 

"Well,  now,  Oi  wish,"  said  the  Widow,  "that  some  toime 
fwhin  ye  are  annyfwhere  around,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  yez'd 
pay  particklar  attintion  to  fwhat  Oi  diz  be  doin'  at  th'  table, 
an'  aff  there's  annythin'  quare  in  me  way  av  aitin'  do  me  a 
frindly  koindness  an'  come  roight  out  an'  tell  me  fwhat  it 
is.  Oi'm  not  a  bit  proud,  an'  no  more  do  I  think  meseP  a 
bit  purty,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty;  but  fwhat  happened  to  me 
at  Nellie  Tooley's  wake,  lasht  Choosd'y  noight,  med  me  feel 
loike  me  mother  was  a  moonkey  an'  me  father  was  th' 
brother  of  Joo- Joo,  th'  dawg-face  man.  They  had  a  supper 
at  twelve  o'clock  wud  oice  cream  an'  tay  an'  shtrawberries 
an'  the  loike,  wud  sody  wather  fur  the  min  an'  limmynade 


I  SO  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

fur  th'  leadies,  an'  Oi  was  sittin'  at  th'  table  besoide  Are 
thoosy,  wud  Tammy  woipin'  his  toof  little  snout  on  th' 
bottom  av  a  pleat  that  he'd  emptied  av  shtrawberries  at 
th'  ind  of  the  table  belyow,  whin  Danny  Mann  pasht  me 
up  a  bit  av  b'iled  ham  an'  a  shpoon  av  shmasht  peetayties 
that  Oi  sot  down  in  froont  av  me,  an'  be  th'  same  token, 
was  soon  makin'  the  laist  av.  'There's  nawthin'/  sez  Oi 
to  Mary  Coolahan,  that  sot  beyant  me,  'there's  nawthin'  in 
th'  wurruld  that  aquils  the  peetayty  in  bottanny,  thayology, 
maytherology  or  annyfwhere  else,'  sez  Oi,  'an'  Heaven's 
blessin'  on  the  man  that  fusht  invinted  thim,'  sez  Oi. 
'Ahmin,'  sez  Mary,  bowltin'  the  wan  she  was  howldin'  in  her 
hand. 

"There  was  no  more  than  this  sed  bethune  annybody  at 
our  ind  av  th'  table  fwhin  th'  fust  thing  we  knew  Danny 
Mann  sez,  'Git  on  to  th'  soord  swallyer!'  an'  uv'rybody 
laught.  'Fwhat  soord  swallyer  ?'  sex  Oi,  turnin'  to  see.  Oi 
thawt  mebbe  somebody  was  standin'  behoint  me  swallyin'  a 
Boord;  but  there  was  nobody  there,  so  I  lookt  at  Danny 
an'  he  purtinded  to  be  talkin'  to  Dalie  Magee.  Oi  thawt 
no  more  av  it,  but  was  goin'  an  aitin'  me  peetayties  fwhin 
Danny  hollert  agin,  'Luk  at  th'  soord  swallyer !'  jisht  as  Oi 
wuz  takin'  a  mouthful.  Oi  lukt  at  Arethoosy  an'  her  face 
was  as  red  as  a  bait  or  a  lobster.  'Fwhat  diz  he  main  ?'  sez 
Oi.  'He  mains  you,'  sez  Arethoosy.  'Me?'  sez  Oi.  'Yis, 
you/  sez  she.  'An'  sure  an'  Oi'm  not  shwallyin'  any  soord,' 
sez  Oi.  'Ye're  shtickin'  yer  knoife  down  yer  throat,'  says 
she.  'An  is  that  anny  av  his  bizniss  ?'  sez  Oi,  'an'  see  here, 
Danny  Mann,'  sez  Oi,  turnin'  on  him,  'f  what  diz  ye  main  ?' 
sez  Oi,  *be  makin'  foon  av  dacint  payple  that  has  nuver  bin 
pit  out  av  their  house  fur  not  payin'  the  rint  loike  yer 
mother  has?'  sez  Oi.  'Oi  sed  nawthin,'  sez  he.  'Thin 
doon't  say  it,'  sez  Oi,  'fur  aff  Oi  hear  another  wurrud  fram 
ye  about  soord  swallyin'  Oi'll  sind  Tammy  fur  the  p'laice/ 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  l8l 

eez  Oi,  'an'  Oi'll  dishgrace  ye  roight  here  afore  uv'ry  wan 
that's  at  the  wake,'  sez  Oi. 

"That  shut  him  up.  Divil  another  wurrud  he  sed  th' 
resht  av  the  noight.  But,  howsomever  it  was,  Oi  kudn't 
furget  th'  matther,  an'  this  mawrnin'  Oi  was  wandherin* 
that  mebbe  there's  somethin'  quare  or  kewrus  about  me 
aitin',  though  upon  me  wurrud  Oi  can't  see  fwhat  in  th' 
wurruld  it  is.  Mebbe  it's  a  bit  too  greedy  Oi  was,  an* 
loaded  me  knoife  up  too  mooch  wud  th'  peetayties;  but 
they  war  gud,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  it  ud  nuver  satisfoy 
me  to  be  pickin'  at  them  loike  the  young  gerls  war  wud 
a  little  bit  an  the  ind  av  their  forks  that  ud  not  bloind  a 
mishkitty.  You'd  think  to  see  thim  they  war  feedin* 
canary  berds.  Me  an'  Mary  Coolahan  nearly  bushtid  our 
soides  laughin'  at  thim.  No,  Mary  didn't  ait  hers  wud  a 
knoife ;  she  tuk  a  table  spoon." 


SHE  HAS  A  DREAM. 

"Do  ye  know,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow, 
coming  to  the  kitchen  door  with  a  stove  lifter  clutched  in 
the  folds  of  a  yellow-covered  almanac,  "Do  ye  know  that  Oi 
had  the  offulest  dhraim  about  yersel'  an'  mesel'  lasht  noight 
that  Oi  uver  had  in  me  loife  ?" 

"What  was  it  ?"  the  neighbor  asked. 

"Well,  upon  me  wurrud  it  was  a  terrible  dhraim,  me 
frind,"  said  Mrs.  Magoogin;  "an'  fwhin  Oi  awoke  this 
mawrnin'  an'  tuk  howlt  av  me  daughther  Arethoosy's  hand 
an'  luked  beyant  at  the  little  cribbeen  that  Tammy  shleeps 
in  to  see  aff  we  wur  all  there  an'  none  av  us  dead  ur  missin', 
Oi  was  the  shkairtist  an'  most  narvous  an'  ixoited  woman, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that  uver  dhrew  the  breath  av  loife. 


182  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

Thanks  be  to  the  Lord,  we  war  all  safe  an'  sound,  though, 
an*  nawthin'  has  happin'd  up  to  the  prisint  toime  to  cause 
us  any  thrubble.  It's  no  knowin',  though,  fwhat  minnit 
there'll  be  news  brawt  into  me  that  Arethoosy's  discharged 
from  the  tobacky  facthory,  or  that  Tammy's  runned  over 
be  a  shtreet  caar  or  taken  up  be  th'  polaice  for  baitin'  a 
Ditchman  ur  a  naygur,  fur,  as  ye  knows,  he's  death  down 
an  both  av  thim,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  But  th'  dhraim  ?  Aw, 
yis,  Oi  kem  near  forgettin'  about  that.  Well,  now,  let  me 
see  f where  did  it  begin?  Aw,  yis,  now  Oi  have  it.  Oi 
thawt  we  were  all  back  in  th'  owld  dart  agin  an'  my  Dinny 
— the  Lord  be  marciful  to  his  sowl — was  aloive  agin  an' 
yersil'  an'  yer  hushband  Jurry  was  payin'  iz  a  visit  at  th' 
home  av  my  father — bless  his  mimory ;  an'  sure  an'  fwhat 
do  yez  think  waz  goin'  an  but  my  Arethoosy  was  gettin' 
married  to  her  little  bow-legged  Ditch  beau  that  she  gev 
the  sack  to  lasht  Chrishtmas. 

"You  remim'er  Hinnery,  the  little  yally-nickt  an'  tow- 
headed  fellow  that  ushed  to  be  comin'  here  to  see  Are 
thoosy?  Oh,  but  it  was  a  quare  dhraim  intoirely,  fur  Oi 
thawt  Hinnery  bein'  so  terribly  Ditchy,  ye  know,  waz  a 
reg'lar  doime  musee'm  curassity  in  Oireland,  an'  me  father 
— God  bless  him — ushed  to  have  to  take  his  pitchfork  an' 
dhroive  th'  crowds  away  frum  th'  dure  that  gathered  there 
to  shtale  a  luke  at  th'  little  moonkey.  Well,  be  all  the 
nuvers,  fwhatuver  in  the  wurruld  med  me  do  it,  didn't  Oi 
give  me  consint  to  th'  weddin',  an'  wasn't  th'  pair  married, 
an'  wasn't  we  in  th'  middle  av  th'  injoymint  aitin'  cake 
an'  dancin'  to  the  poipes  av  Murty  Murrin,  the  bloind 
poiper  that's  dead  an'  gone  long  ago — the  Lord  prcsarve 
him — fwhin  in  th'  midsht  av  all  th'  foon  didn't  yersel'  rin 
bechuxt  Hinnery  an'  Arethoosy,  an'  cotchin'  up  th'  little 
bow-legged  gommah,  didn't  the  twa  av  yez  lep  an  a  fwhoite 
hawrse  that  was  shtandin'  at  th'  dure,  an'  without  further 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  183 

wurrud  or  raison  away  ye  rode  loike  th'  wind.  Oi  pickt 
up  me  shawl  an'  bonnit,  an*  was  makin'  afther  ye  as  hard  as 
Oi  kud,  fwhin — bad  sesh  to  a  twig  in  th'  road — didn't  Oi 
go  headlong  into  a  ditch,  fwhere  I  shtaid  until  Oi  woke  up 
in  me  freight. 

"Now  wasn't  that  an  offul  dhraim,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty? 
An'  do  yez  know  it  mains  somethin'  terrible  ?  Fwhat's 
that  ?  Ye  doon't  belaive  in  dhraims  ?  Ye  doon't,  ay  ?  Well, 
Oi'll  not  thry  to  make  ye,  but  moind  me,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  Oi  nuver  yet  dhraimed  a  dhraim  loike  that  that  it 
wasn't  to  some  purpose.  Dhraims  are  nawthin',  sez  you; 
pay  no  attention  to  thim.  Well,  nuver  you  moind,  me 
frind,  Oi'm  not  shtupershtious  an'  Oi'm  not  crazy  nayther, 
but  fwhin  Oi  dhraim  a  dhraim  wid  a  weddin'  in  it,  it 
mains  that  somebody's  goin  to  die  or  somethin'  else  is  goin* 
to  happen.  Aff  it's  yersilf  ur  yer  Jurry  that  goes,  shmall 
loss,  but  aff  it's  my  goat  the  dog  catchers  takes  or  my 
Tammy,  as  ye  calls  the  toof  to,  that  gets  himsel'  lockt  up 
in  th'  shtation  house,  or  Arethoosy  that  brings  home  a  new 
smash  that  wants  to  rin  the  house  as  sune  as  he  pits  his 
nose  insoide  av  it,  an'  doesn't  loike  th'  way  Oi  talks  bekase 
Oi'm  not  Oshcar  Woilde's  sishter  or  the  Jersey  Lily  that 
shpakes  Frinch  through  her  noshtrils,  thin  God  help  me 
fur  a  poor,  widdy  an'  give  me  the  stringth  to  bear  up  andher 
me  afflictions,  fur  as  uv'ry  wan  knows  Oi  have  tin  toimes 
as  manny  av  thim  as  anny  other  woman  in  this  wurruld 
wud  care  to  shtand." 


184  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 


THE  IRISHNESS  OF  HER  NAME. 

Mrs.  McGlaggerty  was  cutting  up  one  of  Jerry's  overalls 
to  put  into  a  crazy  quilt  when  Mrs.  Magoogin  walked  up 
to  the  kitchen  door,  and,  after  properly  greeting  her  neigh 
bor,  took  a  seat  on  the  stoop,  whence  she  could  watch  the 
antics  of  her  goat,  who  was  chewing  a  leg  off  an  old  iron  pot. 

"Do  ye  think  there's  any  danger  o'  us  havin'  th'  cholery 
here  this  saison?"  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  asked. 

"Divil  a  wan  av  me  knows,"  the  Widow  answered ;  "but, 
th'  Lord  bechune  us  an'  harm,  Oi  hope  that  aff  it  has  to 
come  at  all  that  it'll  shun  our  dures,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an* 
bring  naither  av  us  sorrow  that  already  has  throuble  enoof, 
God  only  knows." 

"But  th'  docthors  tell  us  that  it's  comin*  sure,  Mrs.  Ma 
googin,"  the  neighbor  interposed. 

"An*  who  tells  the  docthors,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?"  the 
Widow  retorted.  "Sure  an'  they  can't  be  an  very  frindly 
terms  wid  the  disaise  fwhin  they  dont'  know  how  to  thrait 
it,  an'  not  knowin'  annythin'  about  it  fwhin  it  is  here,  it's 
divilish  shtrange  that  they  shud  know  annythin'  about 
it  fwhin  it's  not  here  at  all,  at  all.  But  it's  jisht  loike  th' 
owld  fools  av  pill  rowlers,  bad  nuvers  to  thim;  they're  al 
ways  invintin'  somethin'  to  kill  payple,  or  they  thries  to 
shkare  thim  to  death  wid  hoigh-soundin*  medicines  an* 
quare  ailmints.  Aff  it  isn't  the  cholery  it's  th'  yally  faver, 
an'  aff  that  won't  f recken  saffayciently,  be  Heavens !  they'll 
give  you  th'  shpoinal  McGinniss  or  the  appizoothic.  All 
they  naids  is  a  gud  saison  av  colic,  uv'rybody  gets  shkared, 
th'  docthors  clap  a  new  name  on  th'  groipes,  an'  afore  th' 
wurruld's  anny  woiser  or  th'  sick  patient  has  toime  to  take 
enoof  av  th'  mixthur  given  him  to  lay  him  in  his  grave,  th' 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  l8$ 

new  disease  crapes  into  th'  noospapers  an'  there's  a  hulla 
baloo  about  it  uv'ryfwhere.  That's  th'  way,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty— a  new  disaise  is  as  good  as  a  goold  mine  to  a 
docthor,  partecklarly  f whin  toimes  an'  graveyards  ar5  losin* 
their  popularity. 

"They  can't  come  up  an'  tell  me  there's  nothin'  in  a 
name,  as  Oi  wanst  heard  a  crazy  play  acthor  say.  There's 
uv'rythin'  in  it,  an'  be  th'  same  token,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
do  ye  know  that  me  only  daughther  Arethoosy  had  th' 
monumintal  gall  to  tell  me  lasht  noight  that  she  was 
ashamed  av  her  name.  'Av  fwhat  name,  me  darlint?'  sez 
Oi.  'Magoogin,'  sez  she.  'An'  f  what's  th'  matther  wid  it  ?' 
Bez  Oi.  'Oh,  it's  a  reg'lar  choomp  av  a  name,'  sez  she.  'It 
is?'  sez  Oi.  Tis,  it  is,'  sez  she.  'It's  woild  Oirish,'  sez 
she.  'Aha,'  sez  Oi ;  'an'  ye  don't  loike  it  bekase  it's  Oirish  ?' 
sez  Oi.  'No,  Oi  don't,'  sez  she,  shtickin'  up  her  shnout  at 
me.  'An'  fwhat  wud  ye  loike  to  be  called,  mavourneen?' 
sez  Oi,  sartastically.  'Is  it  Montmorincy,  or  Vandherbilt, 
or  Asthor,  or  some  av  thim  other  hoigh-chuned  names?' 
sez  Oi.  'Oh,'  sez  she,  takin'  an  loike  a  fool,  'Oi  wudn't  care 
fwhat  it  was  so  that  it  wasn't  Magoogin.'  'An'  did  ye  uver 
hear  anny  wan  say  annythin'  agin  it?'  sez  Oi.  'Hinnery 
is  all  th'  toime  makin'  fun  av  it,'  sez  she.  'Hinnery?'  sez 
Oi,  wid  that  losin'  me  timper  intoirely.  'Is  it  the  loikes  av 
that  bandy-legged  little  Ditch  tobacky  shtimmer  that  has 
th'  impurdince  to  make  foon  av  th'  name  av  Magoogin?' 
sez  Oi;  'faith,  'n'  Oi'll  make  foon  av  him  fwhin  Oi  ketch 
howld  av  him,'  sez  Oi.  'An'  be  Heavins,  av  he  uver  dar's 
to  darken  my  dures  agin  Oi'll  throw  a  pot  av  bilin'  wather 
over  him,  'sez  Oi,  'an'  sind  him  home  to  his  muther  cuked 
enoof  to  sarve  up  wid  the  wainerwushts  an'  sour  krout  an 
her  boordin'  house  table,'  sez  Oi. 

"Oh,  but  Oi  was  mad,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  Oi  gev 
thet  gerl  a  tongue-lashin'  that  made  th'  tears  shtand  out 


1 86  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

that  big  in  her  oyes.  She  was  sarry  that  she  had  uver 
opened  her  mouth ;  but  her  sarry  kem  too  late,  an'  Oi  towld 
her  so.  The  oidea !  Ashamed  av  her  name  bekase  a  little 
Ditch  loafer  wid  a  name  av  his  own  that  th'  crows  ud  laugh 
at  doon't  loike  it,  an'  bekase  it's  Oirish,  too.  Wurra,  wurra, 
but  the  wurruld  is  gettin'  to  be  a  quare  place  wid  childher 
becomin'  ashamed  av  their  parints  an'  av  their  parints'  nay- 
tionality.  'See  here,'  sez  Oi  to  me  daughther,  'do  you  go 
an'  tell  yer  cross-oyed  Ditch  beau  that  th'  man  thet  gev  you 
that  name  is  a  betther  man  than  he  is,'  sez  Oi,  'or  than  he 
ever  dar'  de,'  sez  Oi.  An'  so  he  was,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
My  Dinny,  as  you  well  know,  was  as  foine  a  man  as  there 
lived  in  the  parish,  th'  Lord  be  marciful  to  his  sowl,  an'  he 
wasn't  ashamed  av  it.  No,  sirree !  He  hild  his  head  up  as 
hoigh  as  annybody,  an'  there  wasn't  wan,  saint  or  sinner, 
that  kud  say  Dinny  Magoogin  wasn't  an  ornamint  to  his 
church  an'  the  counthry  he  belonged  to.  Thrue  it  is,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  that  th'  name  is  Oirish,  an'  so  is  yours ;  but 
that's  th'  proudest  feather  in  our  cap,  an'  be  Heavins,  as 
long  as  a  dhrop  av  Kilkinny  blud  runs  in  our  veins  we'll 
not  be  ashamed  av  thim,  aither,  will  we,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ? 
No,  indade,  we'll  not,  an'  thim  that  doesn't  loike  our  names 
can  kiss  our  fut,  an'  they  can  have  my  schwate  bad  luck 
to  thim  into  th'  barg'in." 


THE  SOCIAL  WHIRL. 


THE    SOCIAL  WHIRL. 


THE  HORSE  SHOW. 

"Begorries,  but  Oi  was  in  s'soi'ty  in  airnist  last  noight, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow. 

"An'  sure,  an'  f where  war  ye,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 
"Fwhere  do  ye  think  ?"  said  the  Widow,  with  a  toss  of  her 
head,  as  much  as  to  say  that  anybody  but  an  idiot  should 
know  where  society  had  gathered  the  evening  before. 
"Fwhere  else  wud  Oi  be  but  at  the  Harse  Show,  fwhere 
all  th'  eloite  an*  reshurshay  an'  pommy-de-terre  payple  av 
Noo  Yarrick  war  gather'd  together  last  noight  to  purtind 
that  they  war  lukin'  at  thruck  harses  an'  serkus  harses  an' 
ponies  fwhin  in  rayality  they  ar  soizin'  up  aich  other's 
clothes  an'  sayin'  th'  mainest  koind  av  things  about  wan  an 
other,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !  Yis,  ma'am,  Oi  was  there,  roight 
in  th'  thick  av  thim — roight  in  th'  shwim  wid  th'  Vandher- 
bilks  an'  th'  Astors  an'  th'  Goolds'  an'  th'  Shaughnessies, 
an'  th'  Van  Rintsilliers,  an'  th'  O'Hooligins  an'  th'  Mont- 
morincies  an'  th'  Ryans — an'  fwhin  Oi  say  that  th'  Harse 
Show  is  only  a  clothes  harse  show,  an'  thet  Maudie  S.  an' 
Imp  an  His  Hoighness  an'  the  resht  av  th'  cracker  jacks 
that  runs  in  th'  races  at  Cooney  Oisland  an'  Broighton  in 
th'  summer  ain't  wan,  two,  three  in  th'  game  wid  our 
s'soi'ty  laiders,  Oi  know  fwhat  Oi'm  talkin'  about,  Mrs. 

[189] 


190  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

McGlaggerty,  an'  ye  can  bet  yer  tintoype  an  it  thet  Oi  am 
roight. 

"Upon  me  sowl,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  noine-tinths  av 
th'  wimmin  there  wudn't  know  a  gud  ash  caart  harse  from 
a  setter  dog,  an'  yet  they  sot  up  in  their  boxes  wid  op'ry 
cloaks  an  an'  doimonds  th'  soize  av  hins'  eggs  all  over 
thim,  an'  squinted  fur  wan  minnit  through  their  long-nittes 
at  th'  ring  fwhere  th'  harses  war  goin'  round,  an'  thin 
fur  twinty  minnits  at  aich  other.  An'  little  as  they  knew 
about  th'  harses,  they  cared  less,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Fwhat 
th'  divil  deffrince  did  it  make  to  thim  fwhether  this  harse 
was  a  Poland  Choiny  or  that  a  Chester  Fwhoite  or  a  Dachs 
hund,  sure  an'  haven't  they  plinty  av  money  to  roide  all  day 
long  in  th'  elevated  caars  aff  they  want  to  an'  aff  they're  too 
lazy  to  walk  up  th'  L  shteps  sure  an'  can't  they  roide 
around  in  their  hot-to-molly-billies  to  their  hearts'  contint, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  Thin  fwhy  shud  they  bother  their 
heads  about  harses  or  go  to  th'  Madison  Square  Gaarden 
to  see  thim,  anny  more  than  they  go  to  Micky  Flannery's 
blacksmith  shop  to  see  him  makin'  harse  shoes,  or  to  Jakie 
Eoopert's  brewery  to  see  him  bottling  beer.  But,  f  whisper, 
an  Oi'll  tell  ye,  me  frind,  they  doon't  go  there  fur  th'  harses 
at  all;  the  harses  is  a  bluff,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty — a  reg'lar 
Omaha  an'  Councils  bluff — an'  all  they  do  is  lind  their 
name  to  th'  ayvint — they're  th'  pathronesses,  as  th'  bill  av 
fare  sez,  f  whin  somebody  gets  up  a  swell  raffle  or  a  shin-dig 
at  Delmonkeyo's  or  Sherry's  an'  a  long  list  av  names  is  put 
down  as  th'  payple  that  ar'  soort  av  backin'  th'  thing  up, 
do  ye  see?  So  th'  harses  ar'  in  that  way  th'  pathronesses 
av  th'  Harse  Show  an'  s'soi'ty  snaiks  in  wid  its  folderols 
an'  foine  clothes  an'  big  doimonds  an'  diz  th'  resht,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty. 

"Sorra  th'  sowl  did  Oi  see  there,  me  frind,  that  hed 
annything  to  do  wid  harses.  Nather  Terry  McGowan 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  191 

nor  his  woife  war  there,  an'  begorry  aff  there's  annybody  in 
Noo  Yarrick  betther  entoitled  to  be  there  Oi  don't  know 
thim,  fur  Terry  has  wan  av  th'  foinest  liv'ry  shtables  in  th' 
Foorth  Ward.  Naither  was  Miss  Dooley  there,  that  makes 
harse  blankets  for  a  livin';  nor  Dinnis  O'Hare  that  keeps 
th'  hay  and  feed  shtore;  nor  Shanty  O'Brien'  th'  horse- 
shoer.  Sorra  th'  wan  stim  av  anny  av  thim  kud  Oi  see, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty;  but  for  all  that  the  place  was  so 
crowded  that  there  wasn't  room  to  dhraw  yer  breath  an* 
uv'rybody  sed  it  was  a  lovely  an'  successful  ayvint.  All 
thim  big  things  s'sci'ty  gives  ar'  called  ayvints.  Oi  shup- 
pose  th'  nuxt  intertainmint  me  daughther  Toozy  gives — 
an'  she's  talkin'  av  howldin'  a  pinochle  party  purty  soon — 
she'll  have  it  oidayaloized  into  an  ayvint,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty. 

"But  talkin'  av  Toozy,  remoinds  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
that  she  got  very  mad  at  wan  av  th'  things  Oi  sed  to  her 
at  th'  show  lasht  noight.  We  sot  in  saits  jisht  behoind  th' 
Day  Poysther  Maginnisses,  an'  there  was  nawthin'  but 
Wall  shtreet  joods  hangin'  round  Miss  Bedelia  Day 
Poysther  Maginniss  all  th'  noight  long.  Miss  Bedelia  is 
a  tooty-frooty  blond  wid  purple  freckles  an  her  nick  an'  red 
wans  all  over  her  face.  Oi  tuk  partecklar  notice  that  fwhin 
wan  set  av  joods  got  through  chewin'  th'  rag  wid  Bedelia, 
another  set  come  along  an'  chewed  it  some  more.  An'  so 
it  was  all  noight  long.  Oi  shtud  it  as  long  as  Oi  kud  an' 
thin  Oi  sed  out  loud  to  Toozy  so  that  uv'rybody  kud  hear 
me :  'Oi  thought/  sez  Oi,  'thet  ye  towlt  me  this  was  a  harse 
show?'  sez  Oi.  'An'  so  it  is,  mimmaw,'  sez  she.  'An'  so  it 
is  not/  sez  Oi.  'Fwhy,  fwhat  do  ye  mane,  mimmaw?'  sez 
she.  'Oi  mane/  sez  Oi,  lukin'  haard  at  a  pair  av  Willy  b'ys, 
in  hoigh  hats  an'  full  dhress  shoots,  that  was  tellin'  th' 
shtory  av  their  loives  to  Miss  Day  Poysther  Maginniss, 
'Oi  mane/  sez  Oi,  raisin'  me  v'ice  a  fut  or  two,  'that  judgin* 


192  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

be  th'  animals  that  have  bin  neighin'  an'  brayin'  around 
this  box,  to-noight,'  sez  Oi,  'it's  not  a  harse  show  at  all,  at 
all,  but  a  jackass  show,'  sez  Oi.  Well,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
Oi  thought  Toozy  id  dhrop  dead,  she  was  that  mooch 
mortified.  As  fur  the  Day  Paysther  Maginnisses,  they 
gev  me  a  luk  av  haughty  scorn,  an'  th'  min  wid  th'  hoigh 
hats  blished  an'  shtammered  an'  sed  day-day  quick  as  they 
kud,  an'  med  a  snaik.  Oh,  but  it  was  a  hot  wan  Oi  gev 
thim,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  Oi  laughed  meseP  sick  over 
it,  so  Oi  did. 

"It  did  me  more  gud  than  a  can  av  beer,  me  frind,  to 
let  thim  know  fwhat  Oi  thought  av  thim.  An'  be  me 
sowkins,  aff  Oi  only  had  th'  lingth  av  lungs,  Oi'd  have 
towlt  th'  whole  caboodle  av  thim  the  same  thing — that 
they  war  there  makin  jackasses  av  thimselves — jackasses  in 
thousand-dollar  harnisses,  wid  im'ralds  an'  doimonds  an' 
rubies  sprinkled  all  over  thim,  an'  faces  an'  nicks  pow- 
dhered  an'  lips  an'  oye-lids  painted — but  jackasses  all  th' 
same,  an  uv'rybody  uxcept  thimselves  knew  it.  Yis,  indade, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Oi'd  have  towlt  thim  all  that,  fur  it's 
th'  burnin'  truth,  me  frind.  It  takes  a  woman  av  sinse 
an'  andherstandin'  loike  mesel'  to  see  through  such  doidoes, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  An  aff  annybody  uver  axes  ye  th' 
kustion,  alanna,  ye  can  take  my  wurrud  fur  it  an'  tell 
thim  that  all  th'  harse  show  that  goes  an  in  Madison  Square 
Gaarden  ye  kin  put  in  yer  oye — that  inshtud  av  s'soi'ty 
goin'  to  th'  gaarden  to  see  th'  harses,  they  go  there  so  that 
th'  harses  kin  see  fwhat  a  lot  av  hoigh-chuned  an'  fat- 
pockit-buked  jackasses  there  ar'  in  th'  city  av  Noo  Yarrick, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 


WIDOW    MAGOOGIN.  193 


HER  DAUGHTER  AT  DANCING  SCHOOL. 

Mrs.  McGlaggerty  was  hanging  her  husband,  Jerry's 
flannel  shirt  on  the  fence  when  the  Widow  Magoogin  came 
out  into  the  yard  and  engaged  her  in  conversation. 

"Do  ye  know  fwhere  Oi  wint  fwhin  Oi  was  down  town 
lasht  Winsday?" 

"No/'  said  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"Well,  upon  my  wurrud,  you'd  hardly  belaive  it,"  the 
Widow  said,  "but  Oi  wint  wid  me  daughther  Arethoosy  to 
her  dancin'  school  at  the  Lyric  Hall.  Arethoosy,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  is  as  foine  a  shtepper  as  there  is  in  the 
whole  school,  an'  fwhin  she  leps  out  on  th'  flure,  an'  af ther 
makin'  a  bow  that  ud  break  the  Queen  av  Ingland's  back, 
turns  out  her  toes  an'  sets  her  arrums  akimbo,  wid  her  two 
bootiful  fishts  reshtin'  an  her  thoighs,  it's  a  soight  fit  to 
make  a  photygraffer's  oyes  dance  in  his  head.  Musha,  bad 
sesht  to  me  aff  she  didn't  supproise  mesel',  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  wid  her  grace  an'  th'  ellygance  av  her  movemints. 
But  th'  Lord  bethune  us  an'  harrum,  fwhat  foony  didoes  do 
they  be  cuttin'  up  in  thim  dancin'  schools.  Sure  'n'  Oi 
nuver  saw  such  quare  shteps,  an'  bowin',  an'  shcrapin',  an' 
paradin'  around  as  they  does  have,  wid  their  two-steps  an' 
three-steps  an'  their  Eugany  Throt,  an'  other  s'soi'ty 
nonsince. 

"Here's  fwhat  they  does/'  said  the  Widow,  suiting  the 
action  to  the  words,  as  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  craned  her  neck 
over  the  fence  to  see  the  show.  "Wan  av  thim  dudes 
ketches  a  gerl  about  th'  nick  an'  thin  grabs  howld  av  her 
waisht  loike  as  aff  he  war  goin'  to  shquaize  th'  dinner  out 
av  her — but  do  ye  know  be  th'  same  token,  th'  gerls  saim  to 
loike  it — an'  thin  here  they  comes  wid  four  little  throts,  an' 


194  WIDOW  MAGOOGIN. 

thin  back  they  goes  agin,  an'  thin  they  whurl  around  a  few 
toimes,  an'  throt  an'  hop  agin,  an'  that's  all  there  is  to  it — 
th'  Eugany  Throt,  as  they  calls  it.  Sez  Oi  to  th'  dancin' 
inasther,  as  foine  a  little  gintleman  as  ye  nuver  saw  in  a 
whole  day's  walk,  sez  Oi,  'Misther  Tippytoes,  sure'n  is  that 
th'  only  koind  av  dancin'  ye're  taichin'  me  Arethoosy  ?'  sez 
Oi.  'Yis,'  sez  he,  'that's  th'  latest  fashionable  dance,  Mrs. 
Magoogin/  'Well,'  sez  Oi,  'it's  nawthin'  loike  th'  dancin' 
we  had  in  th'  owld  counthry,'  sez  Oi,  'fwhere  th'  b'ys  an' 
gerls  weltid  th'  flure  till  ye'd  think  their  clothes  ud  fall  aff 
av  thim  an'  th'  roof  ud  thumble  in  an  thim,'  sez  Oi.  'It'3 
th'  Irish  jig  ye're  talkin'  about,'  sez  he.  'You're  roight  it 
is/  sez  Oi,  'an'  nawthin'  short  av  it,'  sez  Oi.  'Somethin* 
loike  this,'  sez  he,  an'  he  shteps  out  an'  cuts  a  few  capers  an 
th'  flure,  at  the  same  toime  fwhistlin  'Th'  Eocky  Road  to 
Dublin.' 

"Oh,  but  he  was  a  nate  an'  clane  dancer,  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty!  Divil  a  foiner  uver  shuk  a  fut  in  th'  owld  dart. 
It  \<int  to  me  heart  roight  away,  an'  afore  Oi  knew  it  Oi'd 
thrun  aff  my  owld  shawl  an'  bonnit  an'  was  shoinin'  up  to 
him  an  the  middle  av  th'  flure.  Oi'm  gettin'  a  little  owld, 
me  frind,  but  Oi  tuk  th'  breath  out  av  th'  dancin'  masther, 
who  gev  in  afore  Oi  got  fairly  shtarted.  Th'  shkollars 
shouted  meelia  murther,  an'  war  teckled  to  death.  'There,' 
sed  Oi  to  him,  as  Oi  put  an  me  shawl  an'  bonnit,  'there's 
dancin'  fur  ye  that  ye  needn't  be  ashamed  av,'  sez  Oi. 
'Fwhere's  yer  two-shteps  an'  three-shteps  now?'  Oi  axes 
him.  'Nofwhere,'  sez  Oi,  'an'  see  here,  Misther,'  sez  Oi,  to 
him,  'do  you  advise  me  Arethoosy  to  laive  aff  her  pull-backs 
an'  Gracian  binds  an'  wain  her  over  to  larn  th'  Oirish  jig 
so  that  fwhin  hersel'  an'  her  brether,  Tommy  the  Toof,  as 
they  calls  him,  goes  to  a  christenin'  or  a  weddin'  in  th' 
Patch  they  can  come  out  an  th'  flure  an'  give  th'  folks  a 
tasht  av  their  quality  in  th'  same  manner  their  father 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

ushed  to  do  fwhin  he  was  aloive,  and  he  was  th'  foinest 
dancer  that  ever  left  Kilkinny.'  Wid  that  Oi  come  home, 
an'  now  do  ye  know  fwhat,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Arethoosy 
sez  she  won't  go  to  th'  shkool  anny  more  for  fear  th'  s'sci'ty 
gerls  '11  be  afther  pokin'  foon  at  her  about  the  Oirish  jig. 
Divil  bad  shkure  to  me  aff  wan  wouldn't  think,  from  thj 
way  they  talks,  that  it's  worse  than  havin'  th'  yallow  fever 
to  be  Oirish." 


PREPARING  FOR  A  FUNCTION. 

"Come  over,"  shouted  the  Widow,  to  her  neighbor,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty.  "Tammy's  gone  to  the  cawrner  fur  a  can  av 
beer,  an'  we'll  have  a  sup  together  afore  Arethoosy  comes 
home." 

"All  roight,"  said  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  and  she  went 
around  the  alley  humming,  "The  Heart  Bowed  Down,"  and 
mixing  in  the  bars  of  "The  Rocky  Road  to  Dublin"  with  the 
majestic  measure  of  the  statelier  strain. 

"Do  ye  know,"  said  Mrs.  Magoogin,  when  the  neighbor 
was  seated  at  the  kitchen  table,  "do  ye  know  fwhat's  ailin* 
my  daughter  now?" 

"No,"  said  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  "anless  it's  a  new  mash 
she's  got." 

"A  new  smash,  is  it  ?"  said  the  Widow,  straightening  up ; 
"a  new  smash,  sez  ye.  Faix  'n'  it  musht  be  a  moighty  poor 
opinion  ye  have  av  my  Arethoosy,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  fwhin 
that's  the  besht  word  ye  howld  in  yer  jaw  fur  her.  A  new 
smash,  indade !  Well,  Oi'll  have  ye  undhershtand,  me 
frind,  that  my  daughther's  not  an  the  smash  half  as  mooch 
as  ye  think  she  is.  She's  noan  av  yer  giddy  floy-aways  that 
diz  be  thraip'sin'  th'  shtreets  lukin'  fur  gray-headed  young 


196  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

min  an'  poipe-sthim-legged  joods  to  pick  up  wud.  No, 
mam,  my  gerl's  a  daycint  an'  innocint  little  craythur,  an' 
Oi  won't  shtand  to  have  her  charrackther  impaiched  by 
annybody,  not  aiven  yersel',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  ye  are 
th'  lasht  woman  in  th'  wurruld  that  Oi'd  have  anny  hard 
wurruds  wud.  No,  indade,  it's  not  a  new  smash  that's 
botherin'  Arethoosy  now." 

"Thin  mebbe  it's  an  owld  wan,"  suggested  the  neighbor, 
half  in  mockery  of  the  Widow's  speech. 

"No,  it's  not  an  owld  wan,  aither,"  said  Mrs.  Magoogin, 
"nor  a  suckond-hand  wan,  naither ;  but  it's  somethin'  else ; 
it's  somethin'  that  the  ayloites,  or  the  dayloights,  or  the 
shkoy-loights  av  s'soi'ty  diz  be  afther  givin'  at  their  risi- 
dinces  av  an  evenin'.  There,  now,  th'  name  av  th'  crazy 
thing  was  an  the  tip  av  me  tongue  a  minnit  ago,  an'  it 
shlipped  away  fram  me.  It's  a — fwhat  in  th'  divil  is  it, 
annyhow?  Oh,  Oi  have  it.  It's  a  Kaffay  Kladdherdash — 
some  Ditch  nonsinse  av  th'  koind,  an'  a  Yoom-Yoom  Tay. 
That's  th'  name  av  it.  It's  no  wondher  Oi  kudn't  renumber 
it,  fur  there's  a  sour  krout  twisht  to  it  that  ud  shplit  a  hole 
down  th'  middle  av  a  Connemara  tongue.  An'  that's  fwhat 
she  wants  to  howld  at  th'  house  Choosday  noight  nuxt  walk 
— a  Kaffay  Kladdherydash  an'  a  Yoom-Yoom  Tay.  'Fwhat 
is  it,  me  darlint?'  sez  Oi  to  her,  fwhin  she  mintioned  th' 
matther  yestherday  mawrnin',  as  she  was  goin'  to  work. 
'It's  a  tay  party,  wud  coffee  an'  cakes,'  sez  she.  'An'  fwhat 
diz  Oi  want  to  be  feedin'  coffee  an'  cakes  to  a  lot  av  half- 
ehtarved  divils  that  can't  get  enoof  to  ait  at  home  ?'  sez  Oi. 
'Oh,  mother/  sez  she,  'ye  can  nuver  undhershtand/  sez 
she.  'Troth  V  it's  too  well  Oi  undhershtand  it,'  sez  Oi; 
'an'  it's  moighty  badly  we  can  affoord  to  spind  the  pinnies 
for  it,'  sez  Oi.  'It  don't  cost  very  mooch/  sez  she,  'an  it'3 
tongs,  too/  sez  she.  'Tongs,  the  divil/  sez  Oi ;  'fwhat  diz 
Oi  care  f  whether  it's  poker  an*  tongs  or  kittle  an'  pans/  sez 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  197 

Oi.  'Coffee  an'  tay  coshts  mooney  an'  it's  not  mooch  av 
aither  that  we  have  to  spare,  mavourneen/  sez  Oi.  'Oi 
mane  that  it's  O'Fay,'  sez  Arethoosy.  'Thin  let  O'Fay 
give  it,'  sez  Oi,  'an'  bad  look  to  him  fur  not  givin'  it  in  th' 
fush  place/  sez  Oi.  'O'Fay  is  Frinch,'  sez  she.  'Well,  in 
my  part  of  Oireland  the  O'Fays  war  a  long  way  fram  bein' 
Frinch/  sez  Oi;  'they  war  bog  throtters.'  Thin  she  ux- 
plained  that  O'Fay  was  Frinch  for  0.  K.,  an'  wan  ward 
borried  anither  antil  she  bushted  out  into  cryin',  an'  there 
ehe  had  me.  Oi  can't  shtand  tears,  so  Oi  had  to  give  in, 
an'  we'll  have  th'  Kladderdydhash  wud  Yoom-Yoom  an'  all 
th'  resht  av  th'  buzniss  thrun  in  nuxt  Choosday  noight. 
Fwhat  will  Oi  do  ?  Divil  a  thing  Oi  have  to  do  wud  it,  at 
all,  at  all,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  to  bile  me  foine  coffee  an* 
tay  for  the  gang,  an'  my  besht  pray'r  is  that  it  may  shkald 
or  pizen  thim.  Oi'd  inwoite  ye  over,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but 
Oi'm  afeert  ye'd  laugh  at  thim,  an'  thin  Arethoosy'd  be 
foirin'  mad;  but  diz  ye  kem  over  annyhow  an*  we'll  have 
a  doime  or  two  av  beer  here  in  th'  kitchen  fwhoile  th' 
youngsthers  ar'  injyin'  their  Klattherclash  in  th'  front 
room.  Whisht,  not  a  wurrud;  here's  Tammy,  an'  he  have 
th'  can  full." 


A  DOG  EECEPTION. 

"Oi  wish  to  gudness  ye  war  over  at  th'  house  lasht  noight, 

Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Throoth  'n'  Oi  hurd  th'  n'ise  fram  fwhere  Oi  was, 

Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Oh,  but  we  had  th'  lashin's  av  foon,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 
"Begorry,  Oi  have  no  doubt  av  id,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 
"Me  daughther  Toozy  got  id  into  her  head  that  she'd 


198  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

thry  an'  keep  shtep  wid  th'  Vandherbilks  an'  Asthors  in 
another  new  wrinkle  that  s'soi'ty  has  taken  up  wid/'  said 
the  Widow,  "an'  be  the  sowl  av  me  gran'mother,  daycint 
owld  woman  that  she  was,  an'  she's  been  dead  this  twinty- 
sivin  year  comin'  next  January,  fwhat  diz  she  do  but  sind 
out  invoites  to  the  McNulties,  the  Kehoes,  the  Hooligans, 
th'  O'Bryennes,  as  they  calls  thimsel's,  to  make  payple  be- 
laive  thim  Frinch,  the  Shaughnessies  an'  O'Sheas,  th'  Gal- 
vins  an'  Coshtigins,  axin'  th'  pardin  av  their  presince  at  a 
grand  pet  dog  reception  an'  sore-oye  to  be  hild  in  th'  house 
beyant  lasht  noight,  do  ye  moind.  Th'  big  bugs  has  thim 
same  things  at  wan  another's  houses  uv'ry  week.  Th'  gerls 
brings  their  poog  dogs  an'  shky  tarriers  an'  decks  thim  out 
wid  ribbons  an'  sez  to  aich  other  how  purty  an'  cute  an* 
cunnin'  they  ar*.  Thin  they  give  th'  dogs  cakes  an'  candies, 
an'  kiss  an'  caress  thim  regardless  av  th'  diffrint  koind  av 
flays  they  haves  an  thim,  an'  fwhin  afther  a  fwhoile  they 
get  through  back-boitin'  th'  gerruls  that  ain't  there  an' 
sayin'  all  manner  av  mane  things  about  th'  dogs  that  didn't 
come  to  the  sore-oye,  they  take  their  koyudles  undher  their 
oxthers  an'  march  home. 

"Well,  howsumever,  Toozy  gev  her  dog  party  lasht 
noight,  an'  meelia  murdher,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  ye  shud 
have  seen  th'  baists  they  brought  wid  them.  'Upon  me 
wurrud,'  sez  Oi  to  Toozy,  at  one  toime,  'but  Oi  think  that 
divil  Tim  Mooney  picked  up  that  yally-lukin'  mangy  dog  av 
his  in  th'  shtreet  an'  brought  id  here  to  make  foon  av  our 
party.'  'Oh,  mimmaw,'  sez  she,  'how  can  you  say  so? 
That's  a  rale  Oirish  setter,'  sez  she.  'Oirish  setter?'  sez 
Oi,  wid  a  curl  av  contimpt  on  me  upper  lip.  'Well,  dang 
th'  egg  av  moine  he'd  uver  take  a  sait  an,'  sez  Oi,  'for  Oi 
think  he's  as  rank  a  cur  as  Oi  ever  clapt  me  two  eyes  upon/ 
sez  Oi.  She  sed  no  more,  but  wint  to  another  part  av  th' 
room  wud  her  nose  shtuck  up.  Mike  Brannigin  an'  Johnnie 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  199 

Eyan  brought  two  av  th'  ugliest  lukin'  foightin'  dogs  ye 
uver  saw,  an'  thinkin'  it'  ud  kape  thim  from  aitin'  aich 
other  they  toied  wan  to  th'  fut  av  th'  little  bed  in  th'  kitchin 
an'  th'  other  to  th'  leg  av  th'  shtove,  an'  lo  an'  behold  ye ! 
th'  two  hadn't  bin  in  th'  house  tin  minnits  f whin  down  kem 
th'  shtove  an'  away  wint  the  bed  an'  th'  pair  av  bulldogs 
were  chawin'  aich  other  up  loike  they  was  born  cannibals. 
They  had  uv'rybody  in  th'  house  shkared  an'  fwhin  they 
got  through  foightin'  naither  av  thim  was-fit'lookin'  to  have 
his  photoggraph  taken. 

"James  Clancey  brought  a  dog  that  had  hydhrophebeo, 
an'  id  wint  into  a  fit  roight  an  th'  flyure.  'Shoot  id !  shoot 
id!'  shouted  Mickey  McNulty.  'Shoot  id  aff  ye  dar'  an* 
shpile  my  noice  rag  carpit/  sez  Oi.  Sev'ril  av  th'  by's  had 
pishtils  out  an'  was  goin'  to  shoot  id,  but  Oi  picked  up  a 
broken  old  chair  an'  said  Oi'd  brain  th'  fusht  person  that 
throied  to  kill  th'  dog  in  my  house.  Oi  med  Jamesy 
Clancy  take  th'  animal  out  in  th'  shtreet  an'  laive  id  there, 
an'  bad  dang  me  aff  id  isn't  lyin'  dead  out  there  in  front 
av  th'  dure  now.  An'  wan  av  th'  O'Bryenne  b'ys  had  a 
huntin'  dog  an'  id  got  out  in  th'  yard  an'  was  boitin'  at  th' 
fwhiskers  av  me  goat.  Oi  hurd  Billy  bah-bahin'  an'  aff  Oi 
didn't  pelt  that  huntin'  dog  for  two  morthial  blocks  it's  a 
caution.  But,  oh  my,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  the  rale  fun  kem 
fwhin  my  b'y  Tammy  an'  some  av  th'  lads  up  th'  shtreet 
walked  in  wid  a  bag  full  av  cats  an'  let  thim  loose  in  th' 
house.  Fwhoile  you'd  be  winkin'  th'  dogs  were  up  an* 
afther  thim. 

"Mother  av  Moses,  but  id  was  a  soight.  Such  scram- 
blin'  an'  scratchin'  an  screechin'  an'  yellin'  Oi  nuver  hurd 
afore  in  me  loife.  Over  th'  table  an'  beds,  an'  up  an'  down 
th'  pwhatnots  an'  th'  soideboord;  over  th'  mantel  an'  up 
into  th'  foireplace  wint  th'  cats  wud  twinty  dogs  at  their 
heels,  tearin',  scrapin'  an'  desthr'yin'  things,  an'  divil  a  wan 


200  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

had  th'  sinse  to  opin  th'  dure  to  let  thim  out.  Th'  gerls 
were  an  top  av  th'  furniture,  too,  an'  th'  boys  war  throwin' 
annythin'  they  kud  lay  their  hands  on  at  th'  cats  an'  dogs. 
All  me  bricky-bracky  over  th'  kitchin  mantel  was  smasht 
to  smithereens,  an'  uv'ry  toime  soinethin'  new  wint  down 
wid  a  crash  Tammy  id  shout  out,  'Hurroo,  there,  Flannigin, 
set  thim  up  in  another  alley !'  At  lasht  wan  av  th'  gerls 
flew  to  th'  dure  to  get  out,  fwhin  afther  her  loike  a  shtraik 
av  fwhoite  an'  black  an'  yally  loightnin'  wint  th'  scraichin' 
cats  an'  barkin'  dogs.  Th'  lasht  we  saw  av  thim  they  war 
goin  'over  th'  top  av  Churry  Hill,  an'  they  must  be  up  to 
th'  head  av  Long  Oisland  be  this  toime,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
"Begorry,  but  id  was  a  coshtly  party  to  me,  me  frind. 
Nearly  uv'rything  in  th'  house  is  broke  an'  th'  place  shmells 
loike  a  dog  pound.  S'soi'ty  an  'th'  Vandherbilks  an* 
Ashtors  may  loike  thim  koind  av  things  an'  have  thim  to 
their  hearts'  contint,  but  no  more  dog  parties  fur  Berdie 
Magoogin.  They'll  put  no  flays  on  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 


SHE  GIVES  A  COBWEB  PAETY. 

"Ye  warn't  over  to  th'  party,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?" 
"No,  but  Oi  hurd  th'  ruction  ye  riz  at  id,  Mrs.  Ma 
googin." 

"Fwhy  didn't  ye  come  over,  yersel'  an'  Jurry,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty?" 

"Sure,  'n'  we  warn't  inwoited,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 
"Is  that  so,  now?     Well,  well,  isn't  that  funny 'f     Oi 
thought  Oi  sint  ye  an  inwite,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  Oi 
musht  'a'  forgotten  id.     Upon  me  wurrud,  now,  that's  very 
shtrange." 

"Fwhat  for  koind  av  a  party  was  id,  anyways,  Mrs.  Ma- 


WIDOW    MAGOOGIN.  2OI 

googin?  Oi  thawt  ye  had  a  lot  av  proize  foighters  over 
there  killin'  aich  other,  so  Oi  did,  fram  th'  n'ise  ye  med." 

"Don't  say  that  now,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  the  Widow 
interposed.  "Id  was  as  noice  an'  daycint  a  party  as  war 
uver  given  in  Noo  Yarrick,  me  frind,  up  to  a  certin  p'int, 
me  frind.  Oi'll  tell  ye  about  id.  Id  was  a  cobweb  party, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  th'  very  latest  an'  shwellest  thing  that's 
known  in  s'soi'ty  serkles.  Me  daughther  Toozy,  as  ye  know, 
goes  into  s'soi'ty  a  great  dail,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty — id  was 
only  lasht  Sathurda'  noight  she  was  at  th'  Nuversweat 
Club's  ball  in  Doodburg's  Hall  in  Essex  shtreet  abow,  an' 
fwhinuver  any  new  doido  comes  up  she's  an  to  id  loike  a 
thousand  av  breek,  as  my  b'y  Tammy  sez,  an'  afore  id 
grows  cowld  we  have  id  in  th'  house  injyin'  oursel's  wid  id 
in  th'  height  av  shtoyle.  So  fwhin  th'  cobweb  party  got 
id's  certifickit  av  charackther  fram  Ward  McAllishter  an* 
the  Ashtorbilks  Toozy  brought  id  home,  an'  id  was  id  ye 
hurd  th'  other  noight,  an'  not  proize  f  oightin'  or  dog  killin', 
as  ye  thawt  it  was,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Bliss  yer  sowl, 
woman,  but  id  was  fun. 

"'Pon  me  wurrud,  me  soides  ache  yet  fram  th'  laughin' 
Oi  done.  But,  tut !  tut !  fwhat's  th'  ushe  av  rinnin'  an  in 
this  way  afore  Oi  tell  ye  fwhat  it  is.  To  be  coorse  ye  nuver 
was  at  a  cobweb  party,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  Well,  thin,  let 
me  tell  ye  fwhat  we  did.  We  got  all  th'  clothes  loine  in  th' 
house  an'  all  th'  twoine  an'  shtring  we  kud  gather  up,  an* 
tyin'  thim  to  th'  hangin'  lamp  in  th'  front  room  we  ran 
a  dozen  loines  or  more  all  over  th'  place,  andher  th'  bed, 
behoind  th'  shtove,  out  in  th'  yard,  down  in  th'  cellar,  an* 
twishted  thim  around  th'  furniture  in  a  way  that  id  give 
th'  divil  himsel'  a  hard  task  to  find  an'  untangle  them.  At 
noight  fwhin  th'  gueshts  kem  an'  id  was  toime  to  begin  th' 
game  they  tuk  howld  av  th'  shtrings  an'  throied  to  folly 
thim  to  their  destination,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Well,  well, 


2O2  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

well !  It  id  do  yer  heart  gud  to  see  th'  turnin's  an'  thwish- 
tin's  av  thim.  Mother  av  Moses,  but  wasn't  id  fun?  Big 
Moike  Canavan  crept  undher  th'  bed  follyin'  his  rope,  and, 
busht  my  buttons,  aff  id  didn't  come  roight  down  an  top  av 
him.  Such  laughin'  an'  shoutin'  ye  nuver  hurd  since  th' 
day  ye  war  born,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !  Katie  O'Rourke  ran 
up  aginst  the  goat  out  in  th'  yard  an'  kem  runnin'  into  th' 
house  scramin'  melia  murther  an'  sayin'  that  a  big  ghosht 
wud  fwhoite  fwhishkers  was  afther  her. 

"Oh  my,  oh  my  !  but  we  had  th'  toime !  An'  a  moighty 
pleasant  noight  it  would  have  been  all  round,  but  fur  that 
schapegrace  av  a  divil  Terence  McGowan.  Fwhat  did  he 
do,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  pull  down  th'  hangin'  lamp  an' 
fwhin  uv'rythin'  was  dark  he  ups  an'  shtales  two  av  th' 
besht  hats  in  th'  house,  Mike  Canavan's  darby  that  he 
bought  at  Knox's,  so  he  said,  an'  a  hoigh  shtove-poipe  that 
ushed  to  belong  to  Dinnis  Hooley's  father,  an'  that  Oi  saw 
th'  owld  man — God  be  gud  to  his  sowl ! — wear  in  many  a 
St.  Pathrick's  Day  parade,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Fwhin  th' 
gang  found  th'  hats  an'  Terrence  McGowan  was  gone,  they 
riz  a  cry  fur  the  polaice  an'  mosht  av  thim  rin  afther  him. 
But  they  didn't  catch  him.  Fwhin  they  come  back  there 
was  more  scramblin'  fur  hats  an'  the  min  fell  to  foightin' 
among  thimsel's  an'  Oi  had  to  put  thim  all  out.  Tammy 
laughed  and  Toozy  croied,  an'  Oi  was  laughin'  an'  cryin" 
an'  fumin'  an'  b'ilin'  mesel',  not  knowin'  fwhat  minnit  th' 
coppers  id  be  down  upon  iz  all  an'  get  me  name  dishgraced 
in  th'  papers. 

"But,  thank  God,  uv'rythin'  blyew  over  noice  an'  aisy  an* 
nobody  was  kilt.  Only  fur  that  bla'guard,  McGowan, 
we'd  V  had  a  rale  good  toime,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  But 
there's  always  somethin'  to  go  wrang,  even  at  a  cobweb 
party.  They  shtole  me  clothesloine,  too,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
Wait  till  they  come  to  my  house  again ;  Oi'll  keep  id  in  me 


WIDOW    MAGOOGIN.  2O3 

noddle  fur  thim,  an'  th'  minnit  Oi  lay  hands  an  thim,  Oi'll 
clane  some  av  th'  cobwebs  out  av  their  shkulls  wud  th'  soft 
ind  av  a  shtove  lifther  ur  broomshtick.  Oi'll  show  thim 
th'  koind  av  a  shpoider  Berdie  Magoogin  is,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty !" 


CONVERSATION  MATINEES. 

"Oi  say,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 

"An'  f what  is  id,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"Oi  have  noos  fur  ye — s'soi'ty  news,  ashtore." 

"Ye  have,  have  ye  ?" 

"Throth  'n'  Oi  have,  an'  this  is  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty," 
said  the  Widow,  puckering  her  mouth  and  waving  her  head 
to  give  an  air  of  importance  to  her  speech.  "Up  abow  an 
Murray  Hill  an'  as  far  an'  as  hoigh  up  as  Haarlim,  th' 
bong-tongs  an'  th'  hot  tongs  av  upper  tindim  do  be  howldin* 
uv'ry  day  fwhat  they  calls  conversation  mateens.  Divil 
th'  wan  bit  av  me  id  belaive  id,  but  me  daughther  Toozy 
read  id  three  diffrint  toimes  in  th'  paper  an'  uv'ry  blessed 
toime  id  was  the  same  thing.  'Fash'nable  s'soi'ty  gerruls 
have  another  way  av  gettin'  fat  be  givin'  aich  conversation 
matteens.  God  save  th'  mark  but  fwhat'll  they  be  doin* 
nuxt.  Sure  an'  Oi  thought  mesel'  that  they  gev  mateens 
only  at  the  theayters  in  th'  Bow'ry  beyant,  but  Toozy  sez 
id  dizn't  mane  mateens  at  all,  but  parties  loike  conversa- 
shiony  sasshays,  as  they  calls  thim  in  th'  Frinch  ur  Latin, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  They  meets  at  wan  another's  houses, 
she  tells  me,  an'  talks  about  th'  weather  an'  about  th'  other 
gerruls  that  aren't  there,  an'  boick-boites  aich  other  in  th' 
naitest  an  'foinest  shtoyle  av  th'  back-boiter's  art,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty.  An'  they  calls  that  shtoyle !  Oi  say  shtoyle  to 


2O4  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

thim,  me  frind !  Sure  an'  woman  agrah,  you  an'  me  did 
be  afther  howldin'  thim  koind  av  conversation  mateens 
roight  here  over  this  fince,  manny  an'  manny  an'  manny  a 
day  afore  th'  Murray  Killers  ur  th'  pork  packers'  daugh- 
thers  av  Essex  shtreet  thought  av  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
You  an'  me  has  met  here  dr.y  in  an'  day  out,  in  gud  weather 
an'  bad,  in  sickness  ur  health,  ur  sorrow  ur  j'y,  an'  held 
our  little  conversasshoiny  sasshays  widout  thinkin'  oursel's 
any  betther  than  our  neighbors  ur  shtickin'  up  our  noses 
at  thim  that's  jisht  as  gud  as  oursel's  aff  not  any  worse. 
We  don't  call  our  conversation  mateens  shtoyle  an'  we 
don't  claim  to  be  laiders  av  th'  bong-tong  aither.  Not 
mooch,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !  We're  plain  uv'ry-day  payple 
wud  oidayas  av  our  own,  an'  though  we  may  not  dhress 
in  silks  an'  satins  an'  get  our  hair  curled  by  a  Frinch  moun- 
seer  or  dhroive  out  in  our  dog  caarts  an'  carriages,  we're 
jisht  as  mooch  roight  as  any  other  in  th'  land  to  wag  our 
tongues  an'  wurruk  our  jaws,  an'  begorry  f whether  s'soi'ty 
loikes  id  ur  no,  we'll  howld  our  conversation  mateens  at 
th'  owld  shtand  an'  give  nobody  any  thanks  ayther.  Hurroo ! 
We're  in  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 


HER  DAUGHTER'S  KITCHEN  RECITAL. 

"Was  there  buglers  in  yer  house  lasht  noight,  Mrs. 
Magoogin  ?" 

"No,  nur  robbers,  naither,"  said  the  Widow.  "For 
fwhy  diz  ye  ax  such  a  kustion,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 

"Oh,  bekase  I  thought  I  heard  somebody  thryin'  to  kill 
somebody  in  yer  house  about  tin  o'clock  lasht  noight,  Mrs. 
Magoogin/'  the  neighbor  explained. 

"Oh,  Oi  see,  sez  the  bloind  man.     Id  was  th'  n'ise  ye 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  2O5 

hurd,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,''  said  the  Widow.  "Me  daughter 
Toozy  was  givin'  a  parlor  resoitil  fur  the  binifit  av  th' 
churrich  an'  id's  prob'ly  th'  toime  she  wur  hollerin'  out 
'The  Battle  av  Fonten'y,'  shprainin'  her  v'ice  an'  rashpin' 
th'  bluddy  nuvers  out  av  th'  tinder  part  of  her  troat,  that 
aither  yersel'  ur  Jurry  had  yer  airs  to  th'  kayhole  thryin'  to 
foind  out  fwhat  we  war  doin'.  Oh,  there,  now,  don't  ye  go 
an'  get  mad  about  a  dushcushin  that  ye  shtarted  yersel', 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Moind  now,  Oi  didn't  mane  annythin' 
be  fwhat  Oi  sed,  an'  Oi'm  sarry  Oi  sed  id — be  th'  pow'rs 
abuv  Oi  am,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty ;  so  let  id  dhrap  an'  say  no 
more  about  id.  Aff  ye're  satisfoi'd  so'm  Oi,  so  there's  an 
ind  av  th'  argymint  fur  be  all  that's  holy  Oi've  no  harrud 
feelin's  in  the  matther.  But  talkin'  about  n'ise  an' 
buglers  an'  murdher,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Oi  doon't  shup- 
pose  Oi  uver  pit  in  sooch  a  noight  in  all  me  loife.  Ye 
see,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  id's  all  th'  shtoyle  to  inwoite  a  lot 
av  payple  into  yer  house  to  hear  some  wan  read  to  thim, 
an'  thin  ye  sharge  thim  tin  cints  ur  somethin'  av  tthat 
koind,  an'  give  th'  resaits  to  charity  ur  somethin'  ur  ruther. 
"Well,  Toozy  got  this  oiday  into  her  head,  an'  nawthin' 
id  do  her  bit  she  musht  give  a  parlor  resoitil  fur  the  church 
belyow.  'Fwhat'll  ye  resoite  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Uv'rythin',  sez  she. 
'Fwhat's  wan  av  th'  uv'rythin's  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Well,'sez  she, 
'Oi  kin  resoite  'The  b'y  shtud  an  th'  b'iler  deck,'  fur  wan/ 
BCZ  she.  'Yis,  an'  aff  ye  do,'  sez  Oi,  'ye'll  nuver  resoite  an 
other,'  sez  Oi,  'fur  they'll  kill  ye  fwhere  ye  shtand.'  'Is  that 
so  ?'  sez  she.  'Faix  'n'  it  is,'  sez  Oi,  an'  begorry  that's  uv'ry 
wurrud  av  conversation  we  had  about  th'  resoital  antil  it 
kem  aff  lasht  noight.  Toozy  med  a  sharge  av  tin  cints  an* 
Hinnery  tuk  tickets  at  the  dure  wud  me  kapin'  me  oye  an 
him  to  see  that  he  didn't  shpind  any  av  id  fur  beer.  TJv'ry- 
body  ped  uxcept  big  Mick  Flannery.  'Fwhere's  yer  tickid  ?' 
sez  Hinnery  to  him.  'Me  face  is  me  tickid,'  sez  Mick. 


2O6  WIDOW  MAGOOGIN. 

'This  isn't  a  shindig/  sez  Hinnery,  'id's  a  resoitil.'  'A  wha- 
whoit'il  ?'  sez  Mick.  'A  resoitil,'  sez  Hinnery.  'Well,  f what 
aff  id  is?'  sez  Mick,  'Oi've  not  got  the  shmallpox,  an'  Oi 
guess  nobody'll  be  ashkeert  av  me.'  'Ye  can't  go  in,'  sez 
Hinnery,  pushin'  him  be  the  showldher.  'Oh,  Oi  can't, 
oy  ?'  sez  Mick,  an'  wid  that  he  gev  Hinnery  a  puck  up  in  th' 
forrud — God  savin'  the  mark — that  riz  a  loomp  th'  soize  av 
an  Aisther  egg,  an'  fwhoile  Hinnery  was  lyin'  hollerin' 
melia  murther  an  the  flure  in  walked  Mr.  Mick  an'  tuk 
his  sait  in  the  front  row  av  chairs  up  agin  the  cookin' 
ehtove. 

"No  more  was  sed  about  id,  an'  Mick  had  th'  resoitil  all 
fur  nawthin'.  Th'  gueshts,  as  Toozy  calls  thim,  war  all 
Baited  an  shtools  an'  shairs  in  th'  kitchin,  fur  Oi  sed  that 
since  th'  way  they  upsot  me  bed  room  at  the  lasht  donkey 
party  the  divil  another  party  ur  annythin'  else  they'd  howld 
in  id  as  long  as  Oi  had  th'  sayso.  An'  th'  resoitil  id  'a'  bin 
a  great  success  socialishtically  an'  artishtically,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty,  aff  it  warn't  fur  that  shcoundrel,  Mick  Flannery. 
He  fell  ashleep  at  the  fusht  part  av  th'  noight  an'  gev  no 
further  throuble  than  his  shnorin'  out  loud  an'  threatenin' 
to  break  his  neck  be  fallin'  over  an  the  shtove,  but  to'rds  th' 
ind  av  th'  aiv'nin' — an'  mebbe  id  was  about  tin  o'clock,  as 
ye  suggests  yersel',  Mrs.  McGlagerty — he  woke  up  as  Toozy 
was  resoitin'  Shcotty's  poem : 

'Braithes  there  a  man  wud  sowl  so  dead 
Who  lov'd  a  gerl  whose  head  is  red' — 

an'  so  fort'  an'  settery,  an'  she'd  no  more'n  got  a  few  loines 
out  av  her  mout'  fwhin  Mick  ruz  his  head  an'  sed  out  loud 
enoof  fur  the  payple  an  the  nuxt  block  to  hear  him,  'K-r-r- 
rats !'  'Ye  ought  to  be  ashamed  av  yersel' !'  said  Miss  Mc- 
Gyown.  'Who  pit  him  up  to  that  ?'  sez  Toozy,  'R-r-r-r-rats !' 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  2O/ 

sez  Mick  agin,  rowlin'  the  V  an  the  ind  av  his  tongue  as 
aff  id  war  a  paice  av  poie.  Wud  that  my  b'y  Tammy,  who'd 
bin  sittin'  quoi't  as  a  lamb  lisht'nin'  to  th'  resoitils,  up  wud 
th'  long  poker  an'  hot  Mick  a  blyow  in  th'  head  that 
shtretched  him  an  the  flure,  an'  thin  all  the  wimmin  begun 
to  scraich.  Some  av  the  b'ys  carried  Mick  to  th'  dure  an* 
flung  him  an  the  paymint,  afther  fwhich  th'  resoitil  was 
andhertookin'  agin  an'  wint  an  all  roight.  But  there 
wasn't  anny  great  throuble,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty — an*  no 
n'ise  to  amount  to  annythin'.  Ye  musht  a  hurd  thim 
fwhin  they  war  throwin'  Micky  out  th'  dure,  but  av  coorse 
ye  kudn't  moind  a  little  thing  loike  that — kud  ye  now,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty?" 


A  BIETHDAY  PAKTY. 

Mrs.  McGlaggerty  was  humming  the  "White  Cockade" 
in  her  back  yard,  when  the  Widow  Magoogin  put  her  head 
across  the  fence  and  bade  her  the  top  o'  the  mornin'. 

"Do  yez  know,"  the  Widow  continued,  "that  lasht  night 
was  me  berthda}',  and  that  sarra  the  miser'bler  a  noight  Oi 
uver  sphint  in  all  me  loife.  Oi  was  that  sick  an'  dis- 
threst,  wid  me  head  bushtin'  an'  all  av  me  other  organs 
out  av  ordher  that  aff  ye  kud  have  felt  as  Oi  felt  ye'd  not 
give  a  pinny  for  me  chances  av  livin'  until  the  flow'rs 
begon  to  blyoom  in  the  shpring,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"What  wuz  the  matther  ?"  the  neighbor  asked. 

"Matther?"  echoed  the  Widow;  "nawthin'  at  all,  God 
savin'  yer  prisince,  but  I  wint  over  to  Mrs.  Daly's  in  the 
maurnin' — the  poor  woman  is  lyin'  pow'rliss  an  her  back 
wid  a  new  horned  babe  be  her  side — an'  noine  other  little 
wans  und  three  goats  an'  the  biggest  divil  av  a  little  red- 


2O8  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

headed  husband  ye  uver  laid  yer  eyes  an  wandherin'  aroun' 
the  primises  widout  a  boite  to  ait  or  a  sowl  to  do  annythin' 
fur  thim  but  to  call  thim  hard  names  an'  wish  thim  bad 
look — so  as  Oi  wuz  tellin'  yez  Oi  wint  over  there,  an'  Mrs. 
O'Hare  and  Lanty  McShannigan  war  there  fwhin  I  wint 
in,  an'  nawthin'  wud  do  thim  but  they  shoud  sind  out 
fur  soom  beer  fwhin  I  towld  thim  it  was  me  berthday. 
They  sint  for  it,  an'  in  coorse  av  toime  we  dhrank  it  up, 
fwhin  Oi,  thinkin'  it  was  no  more  nor  less  than  roight, 
bein'  as  Oi  had  dhrank  their  purvoidin's,  an'  an  me  own 
berthday,  too,  be  the  same  token,  that  I  shud  sind  out 
the  growler  mesel',  an'  so,  alanna,  I  did ;  an'  fwhin  it  kem 
in,  we  dhrank  that  up,  too.  Thin  red-head  himsel' — ould 
Daly — med  his  appearance,  an'  we  had  a  glass  to  the 
mim'ry  av  the  baby,  an'  fwhether  yez  '11  belayve  me  or 
not,  an'  yez  kin  do  as  ye  plaze  about  it,  Oi  was  that  waik 
an'  sick  wid  the  shtuff  roisin'  to  me  head,  that  Oi  thawt 
Oi'd  nuver  raich  home,  but  Lanty  eshcorted  me  an'  lef  me 
safe  at  the  dure,  bekase  he  was  afeert  to  come  in  an 
account  of  some  remarks  he  med  wan  noight  forninst  Are- 
thoosy's  little  Ditch  beau  that  caused  some  hard  feelin's 
bechuxt  them. 

"Oh,  me!  oh,  my!  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  didn't  Oi 
pay  well  fur  me  foolishniss,  Oi  was  raitchin'  an'  gashpin' 
an'  turnin'  mesel'  insoide  out  all  the  noight  long.  Oi  tuk 
two  Sedletz  powdhers  an'  a  bottle  av  sody  wather  this 
mawrnin'  to  take  the  bad  taste  out  av  me  mouth  an'  the 
pain  out  av  me  head,  an'  be  the  ghost  av  me  gran'mother, 
divil  another  berthday  Oi'll  be  afther  celebratin'  aff  Oi  lived 
to  be  a  hundhert  years  ould  an'  had  two  berthdays  a  week 
from  this  out.  Eh  !  pwhat's  that  ?  How  ould  am  Oi  now  ? 
That's  tellin',  me  frind.  But  whishper!  Oi'm  not  a 
shpring  chicken,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  nor  am  Oi  a  boordin'- 
house-table  hin,  aither,  an'  bein'  as  Oi'm  pasht  the  toime 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

f  whin  it  does  a  young  gerrul  any  gud  to  keep  her  age  a  say- 
crit — an'  bad  sesh  to  thim,  they'd  suner  tell  yez  a  lie  about 
their  age  than  ait  a  plate  av  oice  cream  wid  yez,  so  some 
av  thim  wud,  Oi  belayve — bein'  as  Oi'm  no  longer  giddy  an* 
an  the  shmash,  as  me  daughter  Arethoosy  is,  Oi  don't  moind 
tellin'  yez,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  inasmooch  as  ye  pit  persel' 
to  the  throuble  av  axing  me,  that  Oi'm  jisht  twice  as  ould 
to-day  as  Oi  waz  fwhin  Oi  was  half  as  ould  as  Oi  am  now, 
me  leady.  Whoo-up,  hoo-roo !  There  yez  goes  gittin'  mad 
about  nawthtin'.  Yarrah,  but  it's  aisily  touched  aff  yez 
are,  to  go  gettin'  yer  dandher  up  at  an  innocint  bit  av  a 
joke,  fwhin  Oi  moight  have  med  matthers  worse  be  sayin', 
as  Oi  kud  have  sed,  hadn't  me  intintions  bin  frindly,  that 
aff  Oi  waz  annyfwhere  at  all  near  bein'  as  ould  as  yersel', 
I'd  paint  me  face  black  an'  thry  an  pass  aff  for  wan  av  thim 
naygers  that  purtinds  to  be  George  Washin'ton's  body 
sarvints.  There  now,  me  frind,  mix  that  up  wid  yer 
corn  baif  an'  cabbage  an'  ait  it." 


ARETHUSA'S  KAFFEE  KLATSCH. 

"Oh,  thin,  Oi'm  so  sarry  ye  didn't  come  ower  lasht 
noight,"  said  the  Widow,  after  she  had  greeted  her  neighbor 
with  a  whole-souled  "gud  mawrnin'." 

"Faith  an'  it's  sarry  Oi  am  meself,  but  Jurry  had  a 
wee  dhrop  too  much  taken,"  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  answered, 
"an'  Oi  had  to  shtay  home  an'  quiet  him,  for  he  wanted 
to  go  around  the  corner  an'  bate  a  hump-backed  Oitalyan 
woman  that  sowld  him  sour  bananies." 

"Be  gonnies,  aff  Oi'd  a  known  that,"  said  the  Widow 
Magoogin,  "Oi'd  a  kem  ower  an'  inwoited  him  to  Are- 
thoosy's  Kaffy  Klashershmash  an'  Yoom-Yoom  tay,  as  they 


2IO  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

called  it.  Fwhy  in  the  wurruld  didn't  ye  rin  in  an'  tell 
me,  an'  ye'd  see  how  quick  Oi'd  be  afther  him.  Fwhat's 
that?  Divil  a  hair  Oi  care  f whether  he  was  full  or  not. 
Faix  'n  the  fuller  he  war  the  betther.  Murther  in  Oirish, 
but  wudn't  there  be  the  foon  aff  Oi  only  had  Jurry  an 
hand  to  taich  two  or  three  av  the  shnips  av  tobacky 
Bhtimmin'  joods  a  bit  av  gud  manners.  Did  we  have 
any  throuble?  Throth  an'  we  did.  Slashin's  of  it, 
asthore — an'  it  wasn't  throuble  at  all,  it  war  proize-foight- 
in'  toords  the  ind,  an'  divil  another  Kaffay  Shmash,  Oi'm 
thinkin',  they'll  thry  to  howld  in  Berdie  Magoogin's  resi- 
dince;  fur  it's  not  soon  they'll  be  able  to  forget  the 
ontoimely  ind  that  the  lasht  wan  kem  to. 

"Well,  do  ye  know,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Oi  wint  to  wurk 
an'  spint  fifty  cints  fur  tay,  twinty  cints  fur  coffee,  an' 
Oi  got  the  vury  besht  they  had  at  the  Ditchman's  belyow; 
thirty-foive  cints  fur  Unions  an'  poys  an'  cakes,  an  Oi 
pit  a  noo  fwhoite  cloth  an  the  table,  an'  gev  them  me 
silver  shpoons  an'  the  chainy  set  av  dishes  that  Oi  got 
fwhin  Oi  was  married,  an'  uv'rythin'  was  goin'  vury 
noicely,  wud  me  settin'  out  in  the  kitchen  lookin'  at  the 
top  av  the  shtove  an'  list'nin'  to  the  foon  an'  nonsince 
an*  all  the  socoiety  lugs  they  wur  puttin'  an,  fwhin,  the 
Lawrd  save  an'  guard  iz,  fwhat  shud  Oi  hear  but  Kikero 
Maguoire's  v'ice,  as  he  shouted  acrass  the  table  to  me 
daughter:  'Say,  Thudie,'  sez  he — they  calls  her  Thudie 
fur  shart;  'say,  Thudie,  tell  th'  ould  hin  to  bring  iz  in 
anither  plate  av  cakes.'  'Whisht,'  sez  Arethoosy,  'me 
mimmaw  '11  hear  ye.'  'An'  fwhat  diz  Oi  care  fur  the 
hammer-faced  pelikin?'  sez  Maguoire;  'tell  her  to  bring 
in  the  cakes  roight  quick,'  sez  he,  'ur  there  '11  be  throuble.' 
'Whisht,'  sez  Arethoosy,  warnin'  him  to  keep  shtill. 
*Nuver  moind  yer  whishtin','  sez  Oi,  comin'  out  av  the 
kitchen  into  the  parlor  fwhere  they  war  aitin',  an'  walkin' 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  211 

up  alongsoide  av  Misther  Kikero  Maguoire,  an'  luekin' 
him  sthraight  in  the  eye.  'Nuver  moind,  me  darlin'/  sez 
Oi  agin  to  Arethoosy,  'Oi'll  attind  to  Misther  Maguoire. 
An'  now/  sez  Oo,  turnin'  to  him,  'fwhat  is  it,  avic,  that 
Oi  can  be  af ther  doin'  fur  ye  ?'  'Nawthin/  sez  he,  puttin' 
an  awful  oogly  twisht  an  his  moog  as  he  sed  it.  'Naw 
thin!'  sez  Oi.  'Well/  sez  Oi,  'that's  aisily  had;  Oi  have 
it  here/  sez  Oi,  'in  the  heel  av  me  fisht,  an'  here  it  is 
fur  ye/  sez  Oi,  givin'  him  a  welt  andher  the  air  that 
sint  him  sprawlin'  on  the  flure.  'Oi  done  nawthin'/  sez 
he,  lukin'  up  wud  a  shquint  an  his  face  that  'ould  shtop 
a  clock.  'Naither  did  Oi/  sez  Oi,  shtandin'  ower  him, 
shmoilin'  loike  a  May  mawrnin'.  'Thin  fwhy  did  ye 
Bthrick  me?'  sez  he.  'Oi  was  jisht  prisintin'  the  compli- 
mints  av  the  owld  hammer-faced  hin/  sez  Oi;  'an'  there's 
her  regards,  too/  sez  Oi,  an'  wud  that  Oi  hot  him  a  blyow 
an  the  chin  that  landed  him  agin  the  dure.  'Ye  seem 
to  be  in  a  hurry  to  go/  sez  Oi  to  him,  an'  upan  me  wurrud 
he  was,  fur  he  gothered  himself  up  as  fasht  as  he  kud, 
an'  shwingin'  the  dure  open,  away  he  put  loike  a  mad  cat 
up  an  alley. 

"Well,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  you'd  a  bushted  yer  soides 
laughin',  uff  ye  kud  have  seen  the  peckthur  that  room 
presinted  at  that  momint.  Arethoosy  was  bawlin'  at  the 
top  av  her  voice,  th'  other  gerruls  wur  thrimblin'  loike 
laives  in  a  shtorm,  an'  about  a  dozen  av  the  joods  war 
breakin'  their  nicks  poilin'  ower  wan  anither  through  the 
kitchen  dure  makin'  their  way  out  into  the  alley.  Tammy 
was  shtandin'  an  the  table,  bless  yer  sowl,  hollerin' :  'Shlug 
thim,  mammie !  Rap  thim  hard !'  an'  at  the  height  av 
the  excoitement  two  polaicemin  kem  to  the  front  dure 
havin'  howlt  av  Kikero  Maguoire,  an'  axin'  fwhat  was 
the  matther?  I  towld  thim  that  me  daughter  was  givin' 
her  frinds  a  Kaffay  Klatthershlash  un'  Yoom-Yoom  tay 


212  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

fwhin  this  young  shkamp  shtarted  in  to  make  throuble 
be  callin'  meself  a  hammer-faced  hin  an'  pelikin,  fwhin 
Oi  up  an'  hot  him  bechuxt  his  nick  an'  head,  an'  only 
fur  his  rinnin'  aff  Oi'd  a  given  him  a  grate  dale  more- 
They  axed  me  aff  I  wanted  him  arrhested,  an'  I  sed  aff 
they  war  hard  up  fur  a  case  to  cart  him  aff,  an'  be  heavens, 
they  did. 

"That  was  the  ind  av  the  party,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
Arethoosy  wint  to  bed  cryin',  an'  this  maurnin'  shtarted  to 
wurruk  widout  her  breakfasht.  Oi  suppose  she's  broken 
hearted ;  but  f what  do  Oi  care  f  whether  she  is  or  no.  All 
Oi'm  sarry  about  is  that  Oi  didn't  break  two  or  three 
noses  an'  laive  thim  memintoes  av  the  Kaffay  Klather- 
splash  that  they'd  not  sune  forget.  The  oidaya  av  callin' 
me,  Mrs.  Berdie  Magoogin,  Esq.,  a  hammer-faced  owld 
pelikin!  Ph— fut!" 


A  DONKEY  PAETY  AT  BIRDIE  MALONEY'S. 

"Orah  my,  but  ye  mist  the  foon,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty!" 
said  the  Widow  Magoogin. 

"What  foon  ?"  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  asked. 

"At  the  party." 

"An'  whose  party  is  it  that  it  was  now,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"Breed  Malowny's." 

"Is  that  so?" 

"Yis,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  She  gave  a  doonkey  party 
lasht  noight;  an'  ye'd  a  broke  yer  nick  laughin'  aff  ye 
war  there,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"A  doonkey  party?  Is  it  asses  ye  mane — jackasses, 
Mrs.  Magoogin?" 

"Fwhy,  woman  av  the  wurrild,  fwhat  else  do  ye  think 
I  mane?"  said  the  Widow,  placing  her  arms  akimbo,  and 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  213 

giving  her  head  a  consequential  toss.  "We  ushed  to  call 
thim  asses  in  th'  owld  counthry,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but 
we're  not  in  th'  owld  counthry  now,  me  frind,  an'  mooch 
as  Oi  disloike  s'soity  an'  detesht  it,  as  ye  know  yersel', 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty — fur  it's  full  often  enoof  Oi've  towld 
ye  av  it — Oi  belaive  wud  the  Romans,  as  th'  sayin'  goes, 
that  fwhin  yer  in  s'soity  ye  nmsht  do  as  s'soity  diz,  an* 
that's  fwhy  Oi  calls  thim  doonkeys  now  inshtud  av  asses 
as  we  ushed  to  do  in  th'  owld  dart,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  An* 
may  God  bless  that  same  ould  dart,  an'  be  wud  it,  me 
frind,  is  the  pray'r  av  Berdie  Magoogin,  fur  it's  often 
Oi  think  av  the  foine  simple  toimes  we  did  be  havin'  in 
it,  an'  the  honest,  dacint  payple  that  we  kud  associate 
wud,  to'rds  the  quare  craythers  that  we  rin  acrass  in  this 
counthry.  Since  meself  an'  Toozy  has  bin  goin'  in  s'soity, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Oi'm  that  mooch  dragged  down  an' 
worri'd  out,  wid  pittin'  an  an'  affi  me  red  shawl  an'  green 
bonnit,  that  Oi'm  afeert  Oi'll  be  taken  wud  the  noo  fash- 
nubble  disaise,  narvious  prasthration. 

"But  nuver  moind,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Oi'll  not  throu- 
ble  ye  wud  me  pains  an'  aches.  We  s'soity  folk  musht 
pay  the  poiper  fwhin  we  dances,  an*  we've  no  wan  but 
oursel's  to  blame,  so  Oi'll  say  no  more,  but  tell  ye  about 
the  doonkey  party.  Uv'rybody  av  anny  kinsequence  fram 
the  Hill  an'  the  half  acre  was  there,  dhressed  in  their 
besht  an'  ready  for  annything  from  a  foight  to  a  raffle, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  There  musht  have  bin  a  hundhert 
av  iz,  more  or  less,  an'  Breed  Maloney  had  a  big  peekthur 
av  a  doonkey  painted  in  fwhoite  an'  black  an'  a  bed  sheet 
hong  up  at  one  ind  av  her  parlor.  The  doonkey,  savin* 
yer  presence,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  hadn't  divil  a  soign  av 
a  tail  an  him  at  all,  at  all,  an'  Breed  gev  iz  all  bits  av 
ribbons  and  pins  shtickin'  out  av  thim  to  shtick  an  the 
doonkey's  peekthur.  There  war  two  proizes,  Mrs.  Me- 


214  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

Glaggerty,  wan  av  thim  an  illigant  fwhoite  glass  decanter 
that  Oi  thawt  wild  luk  scroomptious  an  me  soideboard 
in  the  kitchin  beyant,  so  Oi  med  up  me  moind  to  win  it 
or  busht ;  so  fwhin  they  bloindfowlded  me,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  Oi  kep'  wan  eye  opin  an'  sthraight  up  to  the  peek- 
thur  Oi  walked  an'  shtuck  the  ribbon  an  th'  ind  av  the 
doonkey's  nose. 

"  'Gimme  the  decanther/  sez  Oi.  'Fwhat  fur/  sez 
Breed.  'Didn't  Oi  do  the  thrick?'  sez  Oi.  'Thin  it's  a 
quare  way  ye  done  it/  sez  Breed.  'How  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Shtick- 
in'  it  on  his  nose/  sez  Breed.  'An'  fwhere  else  shud  Oi 
shtick  it  ?'  sez  Oi.  'An  the  shtoomp  av  his  tail/  sez  Breed. 
'Thin  fwhy  did  ye  say  an  the  ind  av  his  nose?'  sez  Oi. 
'That  was  fur  the  booby  proize/  sez  she.  'An'  fwhat's 
the  booby  proize?'  sez  Oi.  'A  mule's  tail/  sez  she,  an* 
she  med  an  offer  to  give  me  somethin'  loike  a  horse's  tail. 
Ow,  wow,  but  Oi  was  mad,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !  Divil  a 
wan  av  thim  kud  howld  me.  They'd  towld  me  a  loie  in 
the  fusht  place,  an'  tried  to  wrang  me  in  the  next,  so  Oi 
up  wud  a  shtove  led  an'  smasht  the  decanther  into  forty 
bits.  'There's  yer  booby  proize  an*  yer  doonkey  party 
fur  ye/  sez  Oi,  an'  shnappin'  up  me  shawl  an'  bunnit 
Oi  waltzed  out  widout  as  mooch  as  sayin'  good-bye.  Toozy 
croied  an'  they  all  cut  up,  an'  some  wan  sed  somethin' 
about  the  peeler;  but  they  kudn't  shkar'  Berdie  Magoo- 
gin.  Oi  knew  it  wasn't  s'soiety,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but 
dang  it,  fwhat's  a  dacint  woman  to  do  fwhin  the  lowest 
throibes  av  th'  Oirish  thries  t'  impose  upan  her?" 


RECEEATIOI. 


RECREATION. 


A  GOOD  TIME  AT  CONEY  ISLAND. 

"Have  ye  bin  to  Cooney's  Oislan'  this  year  yet,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty?" 

"No,  but  Oi'm  thinkin'  av  goin/  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Oi  was  there  lasht  Soonda'  an*  had  the  divil's  own 
time,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Oi  hurd  ye  war  there.  Did  ye  go  in  the  wather,  Mrs. 
Magoogin  ?" 

"Did  Oi  go  in  the  wather?  To  he  coorse  Oi  did. 
Woman  aloive,  fwhat  d'ye  shuppose  id  take  me  to  Cooney's 
Oislan'  aff  it  wasn't  to  go  in  the  wather  ?"  said  the  Widow, 
in  a  tone  that  did  not  conceal  her  contempt  for  the  ignor 
ance  of  her  neighbor.  "Sure  id  isn't  the  beer  id  take  me 
there,  is  id,  d'ye  think?  No,  ma'am.  There's  betther 
beer  at  Grogan's  over  an  Churry  sthreet,  than  Cooney's 
Oislan'  uver  saw  in  it's  loife,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Th' 
Oislan'  beer  is  intoirely  too  Penobshcot  fur  yours  thruly, 
me  frind,  though,  God  knows,  Oi  punish  me  share  av 
id  fwhinever  Oi  have  to.  But  fwhere's  the  ushe  av  talkin' 
about  beer — ye  kin  get  id  anyfwhere,  an'  id's  parched  me 
tongue  is  this  blessid  minnit  fur  a  mouthful  av  id,  so  aff 
ye'll  come  around  into  the  kitchin,  Oi'll  call  Tammy  an* 
Bind  him  to  Grogan's  fur  a  pint,  .Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  •  : 

[217] 


2l8  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

"Yis,  Oi  wint  down  to  Cooney's  Oielan'  fur  me  reg'lar 
cintinnial  bat',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Id's  too  cowld  to  go 
into  the  wather  in  winther,  so  ivcry  summer  two  or  three 
toimes  durin'  the  hot  saison,  Oi  hoy  me  down  to  the  say- 
eoide  an'  have  fwhat  me  daughter  Toozy  calls  me  cintinnial 
bat',  ur  simitinnial  ur  somethin'  av  that  soort — annyhow, 
there's  a  'tinnial  in  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  fwhich  manes 
twoicet  or  three  toimes  uv'ry  year.  Well,  annyways,  Oi 
had  th'  bat',  an',  ow,  wow!  but  mebbe  Oi  didn't  have  a 
ehplindid  toime  in  the  wather.  Oi  was  wearin'  red 
shtockin's  that  Oi  ped  tin  cints  a  pair  fur  up  in  Grand 
sthreet  abow,  an'  the  color  kem  aff  av  thim  onto  me  legs  an' 
as  loock  id  have  id,  the  man  in  the  bat'-house  gev  me  a 
ehkimpy  pair  av  panties,  an'  fwhin  Oi  wint  down  to  the 
baich  uv'ry  wan  av  the  wimmin  laught,  an'  the  min  hol 
lered  at  me,  sayin',  'Hullo,  here  comes  the  tattoo  lady  from 
the  doime  musee'm !'  Id  didn't  take  me  long  to  give  thim 
a  piece  av  me  moind,  an'  fwhin  Oi  towlt  thim  to  go  home 
an'  luk  at  their  own  legs  an'  see  aff  they  war  dirthy  they 
shut  up  their  mouths  purty  quick,  so  they  did.  But  fur 
the  loife  av  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Oi  kudn't  get  the  red 
ethraiks  aff  av  me  legs,  an'  to  say  that  Oi  was  morthyeefoid 
beyant  discription  is  puttin'  id  very  moildly,  me  frind. 

"A  big  man  wid  a  red  mushtache  sed  he'd  taich  me 
how  to  shwim,  an'  he  tuk  me  away  out,  an'  thrippin'  me 
up  wid  his  fut  towld  me  to  fling  out  me  arrums  an'  kick 
wid  me  legs,  fwhoile  he  hild  a  howlt  av  the  boick  av  me 
shkirt  an'  purtinded  to  be  taichin'  me.  Oi  hollered  melia 
murdher,  but  he  wudn't  let  me  go.  'Shwim!'  sez  he. 
'Troth  'n  Oi'll  shwim  you  fwhin  Oi  get  up  out  av  this,' 
sez  Oi.  The  say  wather  was  chokin'  me  an'  Oi  was  all 
amosht  uxhausted  fwhin  he  gev  me  a  shovt  an'  sint  me 
andher  a  big  wave.  Upon  me  sowl,  Oi  don't  know  fwhat 
saved  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi  moight  as  well  'a'  bin 


WIDOW  MAGOOGIN.  2 19 

dhrowndid  as  not,  but  the  gud  Lord  was  havin'  his  eye 
an  me,  an'  be  the  greatest  av  merackles  Oi  schrambled  to 
me  feet  an'  was  saved.  Oi  shputthered  the  wathter  out  av 
me  rnout',  an'  thin  Oi  lukt  around  fur  me  red-fwhiskered 
feucko,  but  he  was  gone.  It's  a  gud  thing  fur  him  that 
he  was  ur  Oi'd  a  given  him  a  puck  up  in  the  forehead 
that  he'd  not  sune  disremimber.  Oi  shtud  in  the  wather 
two  hours,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  me  boick  an'  arrums 
ar'  blishtered  like  as  aff  Oi  had  the  shmallpox.  Oh,  but 
id  was  shpoort.  Some  goes  too  Cooney's  Oislan'  an'  Long 
Branch  an'  Noopoort  to  show  aff  their  shapes,  but  Oi  goea 
fur  me  healt'.  An  id's  more  foon  than  a  barrel  av  moon- 
keys  sometoimes,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty!" 


AT  THE  ARION  BALL— BY  MISTAKE. 

"The  Ditch  ar'  divils,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 
"So  ye  say,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 
"An  so  ar'  th'  Frinch,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 
"Troth  'n  Oi  don't  doubt  ye,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 
"The  Oirish,  it  seems  to  me,  is  th'  only  respectible 
people  in  th'  counthry,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 
"Thrue  for  ye,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"An'  Oi'll  tell  ye  fwhy,  me  frind,"  said  the  lady,  as 
suming  a  low,  dulcet,  argumentative  tone.  "Ye  hear  av 
th'  Frinch  ball  uv'ry  year,  wud  id's  shameless  hussies  and 
disgraceful  doidoes,  an'  ye  hear  av  th'  Ditch  ball  wud 
id's  goin's  an  that  ar'  all  amosht  as  bad  as  th'  Frinch, 
but  ye  nuver  hear  av  anny  Oirish  ball  that  there's  anny- 
thin'  wrong  wud,  do  ye  ?  No,  ma'am,  nuver !  An'  f what's 
more,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  ye  nuver  will.  Oi  nearly  had 
th'  breath  taken  roight  out  av  me  h'art  be  fwhat  Oi  saw 


22O  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

at  the  O'Ryan's  ball  at  th'  Mat'son  Shquare  Gardin  lasht 
noight,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi  wint  there  intoirely  be 
mistake.  The  Lord  knows  Oi'd  nuver  go  there  anny  other 
way,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  fur  th'  tickits  war  tin  dollars 
apiece;  an'  divil  spill  the  soign  av  an  O'Ryan  was  there 
ayther.  God  held  me  sinses,  but  Oi  thought  mebhe  id 
was  a  rale  hoigh-chooned  Oirish  affair,  that  id  remoind 
me  av  some  av  th'  dances  we  used  to  have  in  th'  owld 
dart,  an'  Oi  wint  wud  me  daughther  Toozy,  who  was 
dhrest  up  as  th'  Queen  av  th'  Fairies,  wud  a  shlash  an 
wan  soide  av  her  dhress.,  so  as  to  show  about  a  fut  an'  a 
half  av  her  green  stockin's. 

"Faix  'n  Oi  thought  that  was  bad  enoof,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  an'  Oi  fairly  blished  loike  a  gerrul  uv'ry  toime  Oi 
saw  a  man  lukin'  at  that  soide  av  me  daughther  Toozy's 
dhress,  but  oh,  my!  ow,  wow!  an'  wirra  sthrue!  Toozy's 
green  stockin's  warn't  a  rap  to  fwhat  Oi  saw  in  th'  Gardin. 
An'  sorra  th'  bit  av  Oirish  th'  dance  was  at  all,  at  all, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  It  was  full-bluded  Ditch.  Sour 
krout  an'  pritzils  an'  bologny  sassidge  shtuck  out  all  over 
id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  There  was  plenty  av  beer,  but 
there  was  more  champagny  wather,  an'  d'ye  know  thim 
Ditchmin  that  had  th'  shuperfloose  gall  an'  inshtantay- 
neese  cheek  to  call  thimsel's  O'Ryans  begon  to  get  rale 
gay  an'  to  act  loike  crazy  Frinchmin  afore  th'  clock  shtruck 
twelve.  Oi  nuver  saw  so  many  Ditchmin  makin'  ring- 
tailed  moonkeys  av  themsel's  afore  in  all  me  loife,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty.  An'  th'  women!  Oh,  th'  women,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty!  They  war  tin  thousan'  toimes  worse  nor 
th'  min.  Divil  a  wan  av  me  knows  fwhether  they  war 
Frinch,  ur  Ditch,  ur  Hungarians,  but  th'  way  they  dhrest 
an'  carried  an'  me  frind,  was  shcandayleous  beyant  com- 
parisin,  so  id  was.  Fwhy  some  av  the  craythures  didn't 
have  a  dhress  at  all  an,  but  was  rigged  out  loike  bally 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  221 

gerruls,  an'  thim  that  did  have  clothes  on  them  had  no 
ushe  fur  them,  fur  they  war  furuver  kickin'  up  their 
heels  and  knockin'  min's  hats  aff  wid  their  toes,  and 
throyin'  to  tangle  their  legs  up  in  th'  shangeliers. 

"Upon  me  wurrud,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  ye  kud  see  uv'ry 
shtitch  they  had  an,  an'  more,  too,  an'  id's  a  wondher  to 
my  moind  that  th'  polaice  didn't  raid  thim  fwhere  they 
shtud  an'  run  thim  in  fur  conduct  anbecoomin'  th'  sex 
they  belongt  to,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Heaven  furgive  me, 
me  frind,  fur  bein'  there  at  all,  at  all  and  particypatin'  in 
th'  wickidness — but  Oi  thought  id  was  an  O'Ryan  ball, 
as  Oi  sed  afore,  an'  wint  there  be  mishtake,  an'  shted 
there  longer  than  Oi  expected  to  bekase  railly  Oi  was 
ashamed  to  be  seen  goin'  out.  No,  indade,  ma'am,  ye  see 
no  sooch  goin's  an  at  an  Oirish  ball.  There  may  be  a 
little  shcrappin'  an'  some  av  thim  that  come  wud  gud 
faytures  may  go  away  wud.brokin  noses  an'  brokin  heads, 
but  ye'll  see  no  shkurt  dancin'  there,  an'  no  hoigh-kickin' 
hussies,  nor  no  shampagny,  nayther.  Begorry,  Oi  belave 
id's  th'  shampagny  that  puts  th'  divil  into  thim,  me  frind. 
Oi  had  a  glass  ur  two,  ur  three,  ur  four  av  id  meself  at 
th'  O'Ryan's  ball,  an'  it  med  me  feel  loike  pickin'  up  me 
shkurts  an'  puttin'  me  fut  through  th'  shkoyloight.  Upan 
me  sowl  Oi  did.  But  Oi  nuver  forget  me  daycincy,  me 
frind.  No,  ma'am,  no  matther  how  mooch  Oi  dhrink,  Oi 
nuver  furget  me  daycincy,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 


222  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 


ON  AN  EXCURSION  BOAT. 


sails  the  ocean  bloo, 
Our  sossy  shep's  a  byooty/ 

Do  yez  hear  that,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?"  the  Widow  shouted 
across  the  fence,  lapsing  from  song  into  a  subdued  sort 
of  shriek  that  did  not  fail  to  attract  the  neighbor's  atten 
tion. 

"To  be  sure  Oi  he'rd  it,"  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  answered, 
"but  what's  the  matther  wud  yer  w'ice  this  mornin'?  It 
seems  to  be  bint  a  little  —  there's  a  thwist  in  it,  or  some- 
thin'." 

"Faix  'n  ye're  roight  there  is,  agrah,"  said  Mrs.  Ma- 
googin.  "An'  it's  the  reckless  woman  Oi  am  intoirely, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  to  be  makin'  a  mockin'  berd  av  meself 
this  blessed  day,  fur  me  throat  feels  loike  a  section  av  foire 
hose,  an'  it's  that  thick,  savin'  yer  prisince,  that  wan  wud 
think  there  was  a  fog  in  it.  But  the  bit  av  a  song  kem 
to  me  soort  av  nather'l  loike  fwhoile  Oi  was  thinkin'  av  a 
sail  Oi  had  down  the  bay  an'  out  beyant  Sandy  Huke  to 
the  Fishin*  Banks  belyow,  yistherdy.  Mesilf  an'  me 
daughter  Arethoosy  wint,  an'  sorra  a  foiner  day  th'  Al- 
moighty  God  uver  turned  out  av  his  khnapsack,  fwhich 
is  sayin'  a  grait  dale  fur  it,  isn't  it,  now,  me  frind? 
An*  the  thrip  ?  Oh,  the  thrip  was  deloightf  ul.  Deloight- 
ful,  did  Oi  say?  Well,  to  tell  the  thruth  Oi  didn't  mane 
to  say  as  mooch,  fur  though  there  war  plinty  an  boord 
that  inj'yed  thimselves,  divil  dang  the  owld  say  aff  it 
didn't  come  very  near  bein'  the  death  av  me  afoore  the 
day  wuz  done.  An'  this  is  the  way  it  all  kem  about, 
alanna.  Goin'  down  to  the  banks  the  wather  was  as  day- 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  223 

cint  an'  well  behaved  as  a  bloind  praicher  at  a  camp  meet- 
in',  but  coomin'  home  the  ravin'  haythin  av  a  monsther 
had  his  back  up  purty  hoigh  an'  he  was  shakin'  all  over 
wud  fwhoite  brishtles  av  foam.  He  had  the  haives  an', 
begorra,  it  didn't  take  long  to  give  thim  to  the  resht  av 
iz.  The  say  rowled  an'  tost  an'  thruw  itself  about  till  wan 
'ould  think  it  was  goin'  to  open  up  its  big  dhrippin'  jowls 
an'  swally  uv'ry  mother's  son  av  iz  afoore  we  kud  as  mooch 
as  crass  our  breashts  an'  ax  the  Lord  to  have  marcy  an  iz. 
"An'  the  boat  ?  Ora  my,  but  didn't  it  rowl.  Wud  uv'ry 
shwell  it  gev  a  lurch  an'  a  toss  that,  thanks  be  to  God,  Oi 
thought  'ould  be  its  lasht.  But  it's  naither  the  say  nur 
the  boat  that  bother'd  me,  fur  Oi  was  the  sickest  an* 
sorest,  an'  sorriest  woman  ye  uver  saw  in  the  fusht  foive 
jninnits  av  the  throuble,  though  it  didn't  as  mooch  as  turn 
a  hair  an  Arethoosy.  An  the  way  out  Oi  ate  pound  cake, 
an'  paich  poy  an'  ham  sangwiches  an'  doughnits — an'  we 
had  a  dhrop  av  brandy  wud  iz  to  settle  the  shtomach,  an* 
sure  Oi  had  a  wee  shnifter  av  that,  too;  but  it  all  wint 
down  well  an'  aisy  enoof,  an'  as  I  washed  out  me  throat 
wud  a  toddy  that  Oi  med  out  av  oice  wather  an'  limmins, 
Oi  was  that  continted  an'  happy,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that 
aff  Presidint  Claivelan'  kem  up  an'  axed  me  to  alope  wud 
him  that  minnit,  Oi'd  tell  him  to  be  aff  about  his  bezniss 
an'  laive  me  alone.  Yis,  indade,  it  wint  down  shmoodly, 
but  howly  Mother  av  Moses !  f what  a  tumble  toime  it  had 
comin'  up  agin.  Divil  a  wurd  av  loy  Oi'm  tellin'  ye,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty — it  was  the  suiferinest  toime  Oi  uver  pit  in  in 
all  me  born  loife,  an'  it's  some  daisy  owld  sufferin'  Berdie 
Magoogin  has  had  in  her  toime,  as  ye  knows.  Oi  was 
sittin'  in  the  bow  av  the  boat  lukin'  at  the  soights — 
fwhin  the  Lord  bechune  iz  an'  harm — all  to  wanst  me 
head  began  to  go  around  an'  Oi  kudn't  keep  me  bonnit 
fram  goin'  away  undher  wan  ear,  fwhoile  me  shtomach — 


224  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

axin'  yer  pardin'  fur  minshinin'  id — felt  as  aff  there  was 
a  can  av  dinnymoite  insoide  av  it,  an'  somebody  was 
thryin'  to  touch  it  aff.  In  a  holy  minnit,  an'  widout  a 
word  av  warnin',  aff  it  wint  itself — into  the  say — an'  may 
the  ratthleshnaik  ait  me  an'  the  divil  use  me  fur  a  walkin' 
ehtick  aff  Oi  wudn't  a  gev  tin  cints  to  be  pitched  into  the 
say  af  ther  id. 

"Oh,  but  Oi  was  sick !  Oi'll  nuver  be  as  sick  agin  till  Oi'm 
dead !  Oh,  my,  but  Oi  was  afeerd  Oi'd  busht  me  nick  in 
two — it  was  that  mane  an'  mis'rabil  in  comin'  up.  Faix 
'n  Oi  sed  'Noo  Yorruk'  in  airnist  and  manny  a  toime  Oi 
Bed  it,  too,  fur  the  resht  av  that  thrip.  A  fat  owld  divil 
av  a  man  sot  alongsoide  av  me  an'  talked  about  soup  an* 
pork  an'  molasses  antil  me  eyes  war  shtandin'  out  av 
me  head  an'  Oi  thought  Oi'd  gashp  me  lasht.  'Ate  a 
bit  av  f whale's  blubber,'  sez  he  to  me;  'it's  gud  fur  say- 
sickniss.'  The  suckond  toime  he  sed  f  whale's  blubber  Oi 
thought  Oi'd  lose  me  loife.  Oh,  but  Oi  kud  have  killed 
him;  but  Oi  hadn't  toime — Oi  was  too  busy  shrowin'  me 
foine  dinner  to  the  say.  Oi  don't  know  how  Oi  uver  got 
over  it,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  It's  worse  nor  cholery  ur  yally 
faver;  yis,  indade,  a  thousan'  toimes  worse.  All  Oi  know 
is  they  laid  me  out  an  a  binch  an  the  boat,  an'  a  foine 
young  man,  that  was  some  soort  av  a  docthor  on  boord, 
had  a  howlt  av  me  pulse  an'  was  talkin'  noicely  to  me 
fwhin  up  pops  the  fat  shcoundhrel  an'  sez  somethin'  about 
gettin'  a  shtommick  poomp.  That  settled  me.  Oi  rowled 
over  an'  med  up  me  moind  to  die;  but  Oi  didn't  die, 
though  Oi  kem  moighty  near  it;  an'  fwhin  Oi  kem  to 
me  sinses,  who  shud  be  there  laughin'  an'  skittin  at  me 
misfortin  but  me  foine  leady,  Arethoosy,  neshlin'  an  the 
vesht  patthern  av  the  fat  divil  that  wanted  to  kill  me 
vrad  the  shtomick  poomp.  Fwhat  did  Oi  say?  Nuver 
moind,  I  sed  enoof ;  an'  f  what  Oi  want  to  say  to  you  now, 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  22$ 

Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  is  to  nuver  ait  yer  mails  an  the  ocean 
antil  ye  kin  ait  thim  an  dhry  land ;  thin  ye'll  not  be  af eert 
av  shtomick  poomps.  Say-sickniss  taiches  12  wisdom,  me 
frind,  an'  don't  yez  furgit  id." 


'A  "BAT"  AT  EOCKAWAY  BEACH. 

"Oh,  but  id's  mesel'  had  the  foine  bat*  yistherda',  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty !" 

"Had  ye  id  up  yer  shnout  agin,  d'ye  tell  me,  Mrs.  Ma- 
googin?" 

"Up  me  shnout?  No,  nur  down  me  shnout,  nayther, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Id's  not  that  koind  av  a  bat'  Oi  mane, 
at  all,  at  all,  me  frind,  but  a  bat'  in  the  salt  say  wather — 
the  fusht  bat'  Oi've  had  in  foive  years,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Is  that  so,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?  An'  fwhere  did  ye  go  fur 
yer  bat'?" 

"To  Kockaway." 

"Wud  the  hoigh  chunies?" 

"Oy,  wud  th'  hoigh  chunies,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said 
the  Widow  Magoogin;  "an'  divil  the  so  hoigh  do  Oi  be 
afther  thinkin'  some  av  thim  ar'  fwhin  ye  come  to  foind 
thim  out,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Ton  me  wurrud,  me  frind, 
there's  some  av  thim  that  Oi  met  down  there,  an'  d'ye  know 
id,  Oi  think  that  little  av  thim  that  Oi'd  not  shpit  in 
their  eye  aiven  aff  they  war  to  ax  me  to  do  it.  There's 
the  Hinnessies,  fur  instance — the  gerruls  ar'  there,  wud 
their  low-cut  dhresses  an'  their  hoigh-cut  capers,  wud 
yally  shoes  an'  fwhoite  lace  parrysoles  thrapesin'  up  an* 
down  th'  baich  loike  they  owned  the  land  an'  the  say,  an' 
hadn't  a  ha'porth  to  think  av  but  clothes,  an'  joods,  an' 
chewin'  gum.  Wan  id  imagine,  to  see  thim,  that  they  war 


226  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

brought  up  in  a  king's  palace  an'  had  lived  on  poies  an' 
pashties  all  their  loives.  Sure  an'  Oi  ushed  to  know  thim 
fwhin  they  hadn't  a  shtich  to  their  hoicks  an'  fwhin  they 
war  glad  enoof  to  get  corn  mail  bread  an'  corn  beef  hash 
to  put  in  their  gullets,  an'  be  gorries  id  was  plinty  gud 
enoof  fur  thim,  too.  God  help  me!  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
but  Oi  wus  parryloized  fwhin  owld  Hinnessy  himseP  that 
was  sittin'  at  the  nuxt  table  to  me  in  the  doinin'-room, 
passed  his  daughter  a  plate  av  soup,  sayin'  to  her  at  the 
same  toime  as  he  did  so,  'Uxcuse  me,  Gertie,  but  may  Oi 
have  the  pleasure  av  servin'  you  with  a  little  consommay  ?' 
Oh,  my,  but  ye  ought  to  have  seen  the  pucker  an  his  mout* 
fwhin  he  was  shpakin'.  'Silver  plate,  pippaw,'  sez  Gertie, 
as  she  grabbed  the  dish  an'  put  a  curl  an  her  nick  that 
id  make  a  Frinch  cuke  sick. 

"Bad  sesht  to  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  aff  Oi  had  a 
bladdher  handy  Oi'd  shmash  the  two  av  thim  over  the 
head  wud  it.  Silver  plate,  indade !  Bad  dang  to  their 
buttons,  but  Oi  knew  thim  fwhin  they  had  nuver  a  plate 
at  all  an'  nawthin'  to  ait  aff  av  id  at  that;  an'  only 
that  owld  Hinnessy  robbed  his  mother's  brother  av  all 
he  had  divil  the  dhrap  av  consommay  they'd  be  silver 
platin'  at  Kockaway  or  anyf where  else  to-day,  me  frind.' 
Ow,  wow!  but  the  lugs  they  pits  an.  Phew!  but  fwhat 
a  long  tail  our  cat's  got,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !  An'  th'  Hin- 
nessies  ar'  not  the  only  wans !  There's  plinty  av  th'  same 
eoort — wan  av  thim  worse  than  th'  other  an'  all  av  thim; 
thryin'  to  belong  to  the  bong-tong.  But  talkin'  about  the 
bat',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  id  was  the  foinest  Oi  uver  had 
in  me  loife,  an'  id  was  in  the  bat'  that  Oi  laid  thim  all 
out.  They  nuver  saw  a  pair  av  purtier  legs  an  Rockaway 
Baich  than  Oi  showed  thim  yistherda'.  The  Hinnessies 
an'  th'  resht  av  thim  wore  shtockin's  an'  war  ashamed  av 
their  legs,  but  Oi  had  nawthin  to  be  ashamed  av  an,  Oi 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

let  thim  know  so  be  me  actions.  Uv'rybody  sed  Oi  had 
the  grandest  figger  they  uver  saw,  an'  wan  young  man 
towld  me  Oi  ought  to  jine  the  Casino  ballet.  Oi  thanked 
him  fur  the  complimint  an'  gev  him  a  back-handed  woipe 
av  me  hand  in  th'  eye  that  nearly  knockt  the  breath  out 
av  him.  The  Hinnessy  gerruls  have  the  quairest  pair  uv 
cnibeens  an  thim  that  anny  wan  uver  saw,  an'  they  throid 
to  give  me  th'  laugh,  but  Oi  towld  thim  a  thing  ur  two 
thet  caused  thim  to  pull  in  their  horns  moighty  quick,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty.  Oi  was  in  the  wather  half  an  hour,  an* 
d'ye  know  fwhin  Oi  kem  home  an  towld  Tammy  about  id 
he  sed  thet  a  half  hour  was  too  long  intoirely — that  any- 
thin'  over  tin  minnits  id  pizen  all  the  fish  in  the  say  be- 
chuxt  here  an'  Foundnewland.  Oi  thawt  id  was  quare 
that  he  shud  say  such  a  thing,  but  the  thawt  nuver  crast 
me  antil  this  minnit  that  purhaps  Tammy  was  givin'  me 
the  razoo.  Oi  wondher  now  an*  he  was,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty?" 


AT  THE  PATRIARCHS'  BALL. 

"Oi  wint  to  th'  ball,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"Arrah,  f what  ball,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"Th'  Paddy  Racks'  ball,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"An'  sure  an  fwhin  was  th'  Paddy  Racks'  ball,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty  ?" 

"Th'  other  noight  at  Dilmoonkeyo's — that  big  rosharonk 
that  all  th'  hoigh-chunes  aits  poies  an'  pashtries  in  fwhin 
they're  hungry,"  said  the  Widow. 

"Mimmaw  means  th'  Patriarchs'  ball  at  Delmonico's 
Monday  night,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  Arethusa  explained, 
poking  her  head  out  of  th'  kitchen  window. 

"Yis,  that's  fwhat  Oi  sed— th'  Paddy  Racks'  ball,"  the 


223  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

Widow  continued.  "Oi  received  an  inwoite  from  Misthur 
Ward  McAllishter,  whose  father  was  as  thick  a  frind  av 
my  father's  in  th'  owld  dart  as — well,  they  wudn't  have 
thawt  more  av  aich  other  aff  they  war  brothers,  me  frind. 
Mack  was  awful  sarry  fur  not  inwoitin'  me  lasht  year, 
fwhin  they  had  th'  ball,  an'  he  sint  me  his  furget-me-nots 
— ur  fwhatuver  ye  calls  that  thing  they  sez  fwhin  they're 
tumble  put  out  about  not  bein'  able  to  do  somethin' — he 
sint  me  his  furget-me-nots  an'  sed,  sez  he:  'Aff  there's  a 
shindig  nuxt  year  ye'll  be  there,  in  th'  middle  av  th'  flyure, 
ur  Oi'll  know  fwhoy,'  sez  he,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"An'  be  Heavins  he  kept  his  wurrud.  Inshtud  av  havin' 
foor  hoondhert  at  th'  ball,  loike  lasht  year,  he  med  it  foor 
hoondhert  an'  fifty,  fur  th'  uxpress  purpose  av  lettin'  me 
in.  Oi  got  me  ticket  an'  wint  to  th'  ball  0.  K.  Oi  had  me 
red  jursey  that  Toozy  med  me  a  prinist  av  lasht  Chrishmas, 
cut  low  in  th'  nick — Oi  cut  id  meseP  wud  th'  scissors  an* 
thin  Oi  tuk  a  big  shloice  out  av  th'  nick  av  me  red  flannel 
shurt  an'  shprinklin'  a  little  flour  an'  craim  av  tartar  an 
me  chesht  Oi  was  as  f  oine  a  lukin'  dollyketter  as  anny  av  th' 
big  bugs  from  Murry  Hill  abow.  Toozy  lint  me  her  airrings 
— thim  big  glass  wans  that  shoines  loike  doimonds — an'  Oi 
shtuck  a  few  artifeecial  flyowers  in  my  chignong,  an'  wud 
me  unbroidered  green  shkurt,  an'  me  mushkitty  glovea 
raichin'  up  to  me  oxshters — regular  twinty-butteners,  they 
war,  an'  make  no  mushtake — Oi  was  th'  belle  av  th'  Paddy 
Backs'  ball  in  airnisht,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"Ye  ought  to  see  th'  way  th'  young  min  wud  red  f  whish- 
kers  come  dancin'  around  me.  Mack  himsel'  walked  me  up 
an'  down  th'  hall  an  id'  med  th'  Murry  Hillers  awful 
jealyous,  so  id  did.  Oi  hurd  lots  av  thim  axin'  wan  another 
who  id  was,  an'  fwhin  they  war  towld  id  was  me  they  opin'd 
their  oyes  an'  luked  very  kerflummixed.  There's  only  wan 
thing  Oi'm  earry  fur,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  At  th'  supper 


WIDOW    MAGOOGIN.  22g 

th'  waithers  kep'  fillin'  up  me  glass  wid  red,  fwhoite  an* 
blyue  woine  so  fasht  that  Oi  hadn't  mooch  toime  to  ait,  an* 
begorry  th'  lasht  Oi  renumber  Oi  was  shluggin'  th'  loife 
out  av  an  owld  heifer  that  sed  Oi  was  low  Oirish.  Oi  doon't 
knew  how  badly  Oi  bet  her,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  fur  th'  nuxt 
thing  Oi  knew  Oi  woke  up  in  th'  house  beyant  wud  Toozy 
bathin'  me  head  wud  oice  wather,  an'  she  sed  id  took  six 
joods  to  bring  me  home.  Oi  shuppose  Oi  broke  up  th' 
Paddy  Hacks'  ball,  but  God  knows  Oi  didn't  mane  to  do 
id.  The  Paddy  Eacks'll  have  to  uxcuse  me,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  partecklarly  as  id's  so  near  to  Chrishmas  toime." 


IN  THE  SURF  AT  ASBURY  PARK. 

"Did  ye  have  air  a  bat'  this  year,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 

"Divil  a  bat',  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Oh,  thin  id's  Oi  had  wan  th'  other  day,  Mrs.  McGlagj 
gerty." 

"Is  that  so,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"Yis,"  said  the  Widow,  "an'  aff  Oi  live  to  be  a  hundherd 
year  owld  Oi'll  niver  forget  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Howld 
an  a  bit  an*  Oi'll  tell  ye  about  id.  Meself  an*  Toozy 
thought  we'd  loike  to  take  a  thrip  to  Ras'berry  Parruk,  so 
lasht  Chuesda'  we  up  an'  dhressed  oursel's  an'  wint.  An* 
not  a  bit  sarry  was  Oi  for  id  aither,  though  th'  uxpairience 
we  had  wid  throyin'  to  take  a  bat'  was  annythin'  but  agray- 
able,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  We  had  a  foine  day.  The 
weather  over  head  and  undher  fut  was  jisht  th'  noicest 
ye  uver  saw,  an'  upon  me  sowl  Oi  furmly  belaive  th'  thrip 
id  add  tin  years  to  me  loife  aff  id  wasn't  for  the  mainness 
av  th'  copper  that  tuk  howld  av  iz  fwhin  we  was  goin*  in 
bat'ing.  On  to'rds  three  o'clock  in  th'  afthernoon  mesilf 
an*  Toozy  med  up  our  moinds  to  go  into  th'  wather,  so 


230  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

we  ped  thinty-foive  cints  aich  for  bat'ing  shoots  an'  pit 
thim  an.  Divil  th'  wurrud  av  loie  Oi'm  tellin'  ye,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  but  aff  th'  shknrt  av  my  shoot  didn't  come 
down  belyow  me  knees  Oi  hope  Oi  may  nuver  see  th'  back 
av  me  nick.  Thin  Oi  had  britches  an  an'  long  black  shtock- 
in's,  an*  uv'ry  bit  av  me  was  covered  from  head  to  fut. 
Toozy's  shoot  was  too  big  fur  her,  an'  id  shpoilt  her  shape 
intoirely,  so  id  did,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Well,  lo  an'  be 
hold  ye,  me  frind,  fwhin  we  war  walkin'  down  to  th'  wather, 
who  shud  shtep  up  to  iz  but  a  polaiceman.  'Get  back  into 
yer  cage/  sez  he.  'Who  are  ye  exposhtillatin'  yersel'  to, 
sir?'  sez  Oi.  'To  you,'  sez  he.  'An'  id's  ashamed  av  yer- 
self  yez  ought  to  be/  saz  he,  'to  be  seen  in  public  in  thim 
immoral  dhresses/  sez  se.  'Troth  'n  Oi'd  not  be  ashamed 
to  walk  on  Broadway  in  Noo  Yarrick  in  this  shoot/  sez 
Oi.  'Oi  shuppose  not/  sez  he,  'ye're  brazin-lukin'  enoof. 
to  go  to  church  in  thim,  too/  sez  he.  'Is  that  so?'  sez  Oi, 
shtickin'  up  me  nose  at  him.  'Yis,  id's  so/  sez  he,  'an'  an* 
ye  doon't  be  quick  an'  rowl  a  blankit  ur  somethin'  about 
ye  Oi'll  be  afther  runnin'  ye  in/  sez  he.  Shure  an'  fwhat 
else  laid  we  do  but  go  home  an'  take  aff  our  shoots  an'  do 
widout  our  bat'.  But  fwhat  in  th'  bloody  nuvers  kin  they 
mane,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  be  say  in'  that  bat'in'  shoots  is 
immoral  ?  Fwhat  do  they  want  iz  to  wear — ulshters  is  id  ? 
— fwhin  we  go  into  th'  wather,  Oi  deon't  know?  Sure  an* 
id's  no  bat'  at  all  that  ye  get  fwhin  ye  go  in  shwimmin'  wid 
all  yer  clothes  an.  Oi  loike  th'  gud  owld  toimes  fwhin  we 
wus  gerruls  an'  fwhin  a  lot  av  iz  id  go  down  to  th'  Liffy  at 
noightfall  an'  shtrip  oursel's  to  th'  pelt  an'  go  into  th' 
wather  wudout  a  blessid  ha'p'orth  an  iz.  Oh,  but  thim 
wor  th'  days !  Con  Cloman  crept  up  to  th'  bank  wan  noight 
an'  shtole  our  clothes  an'  kept  iz  cryin'  there  in  th'  shtrairn 
fur  three  mortuial  hours,  while  he  sot  an  an  owld  log  an' 
med  fun  av  iz.  Great  goin's  an  we  had,  an'  mebbe  we  didn't 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  231 

bate  th'  loife  out  av  Connie  fwhin  we  caught  howld  av  him. 
That  was  bat'in'  in  rale  airnist.  There's  as  mooch  deffrince 
bechuxt  that  an'  Rasberry  Parruk  as  there  is  bechuxt  a 
batther  cake  an'  limon  meringue  poie,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
'Immoral/  sez  they.  How  diz  they  know  fwhat's  moral 
an'  fwhat's  immoral?  Fwhat  diz  a  cop  know  about  day- 
cincy  annyhow,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?" 


IN  THE  COUNTRY. 

"Did  yez  notisht  me  goin'  away  lasht  Soonda'?"  the 
Widow  Magoogin  asked,  as  she  exposed  her  tanned  arms 
to  the  atmosphere. 

"Yis,  Oi  did,"  said  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  "But  Oi  thought 
it  was  goin'  up  to  th'  Oisland  ye  was  to  take  Tammy  soom 
pie  an'  cake,  so  Oi  ped  no  more  attintion  to  ye." 

"Coom  aff.  now,"  responded  the  Widow.  "There's  enoof 
av  Tammy  an'  th'  Oislan'  fur  yez.  Diz  ye  want  all  Noo 
Yarrick  to  know  that  Tammy's  an  th'  Oislan'  fur  breakin* 
an  oice  craim  peddhler's  nose.  Isn't  it  bad  enoof  look  fur 
th'  poor  little  darlint  that  nuver  done  a  day's  harrum  to 
anny  wan  in  his  loife  to  be  sint  up  fur  t'irty  days,  wudout 
havin'  a  frind  loike  yersel',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  bally-shkat- 
therin'  th'  anfoortnit  noos  over  th'  face  av  th'  airth?  But 
laivin'  Tammy  f where  he  is — an'  may  th'  roaches  (an*  they 
tells  me  they're  as  big  up  there  as  a  fiddler's  curse)  ait  th' 
nose  aff  av  him  afore  he  cooms  out,  fur  he  desarves  all  he 
got  an'  more,  too — lavin'  th'  little  moodhabowl  roominatin* 
an'  graivin'  an  th'  Oislan'  fwhere  he  belongs,  an'  coomin* 
back  to  mesel',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  doon't  yez  know  that 
Oi  wint  out  in  th'  counthry  an*  shted  there  a  waik  lasht 
Soonda'  ? 


232  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

"Me  daughther  Arethoosy  purvailt  an  me  to  go  up  into 
Conneckticoot  belyow  fur  spoort  an'  recrenashin',  as  she 
Bed — an'  faix  'n'  ye  may  belaive  me  ur  no  as  ye  loikes,  but 
aff  Oi  had  her  andher  me  fisht  afther  Oi'd  got  up  there, 
divil  a  more  shpoort  an'  recrenashin'  she'd  want  agin  th' 
langesht  day  that  she  dhrew  breath  in  her  body.  Fwhat  waz 
in  it  to  do  but  to  ait  mails  that  ud  make  a  canary  burrud 
sick,  an'  afther  that  to  sit  around  an'  make  oyes  an'  faces 
at  wan  another,  an'  fwhin  th'  mishkitties  warn't  aitin'  ye  up 
aloive — an'  be  me  sowl,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  they  have  bills 
an  thim  as  lang  as  yer  arrum  an'  as  sharp  as  a  soord — to 
be  roashtin'  wud  th'  hait  ur  dyin'  fur  a  can  av  beer.  At 
noight  they  haves  ye  into  bed  th'  fusht  thing  to  make  ye 
furget  that  ye  haven't  had  anny  supper,  an'  out  av  it  they 
pulls  ye  agin  th'  fusht  thing  in  th'  mawrnin',  so  that  th' 
hoired  gerrul  "11  be  through  wud  her  day's  wurruk  airly. 
Musha,  divil  shoot  th'  laddybook  that  brought  out  th' 
ehtoyle  av  makin'  payple  put  aff  into  th'  counthry  fwhin 
there's  nawthin'  in  it  but  boogs  an'  grasshoppers  an'  mish 
kitties  an'  wet  grass.  Faix  'n'  aff  it's  bong-tong  to  do  that 
koind  av  thing,  Berdie  Magoogin  doon't  want  to  be  a  bong- 
tong  anny  longer. 

"Th'  hoigh-chooned  folkses  kin  kape  their  owld  weeds 
an'  shraikin'  bullfrogs  to  thimsilves  an'  Oi'll  shtick  to  me 
little  back  yard  here  an'  me  buck  billygoat.  There  war 
only  wan  or  two  more  min  besoides  mesel'  at  th'  boordin' 
house,  an'  Oi  got  along  noicely  wudout  a  wurrud  av  argy- 
mint  antil  lasht  Choosday — ur  wuz  it  Saturda'? — divil  a 
bit  av  me  knows  fwhich — wan  av  th'  gentlcmin  kem  up 
over  to  me  an  the  poiazzy,  fwhere  th'  poorch  is,  an'  sez  to 
me,  sez  he,  wud  his  hat  in  his  han'  an'  him  bowin'  an' 
shkrapin'  loike  he  waz  dancin'  th'  Sucond  Av'noo  lancers, 
'Mrs.  Magoogin,'  sez  he,  'wull  yez  be  so  koind  an'  conde- 
Bcindin','  sez  he,  'as  to  obloige  an  owld  frind  that's  glad  to 


WIDOW    MAGOOG1N.  233 

make  yer  acquaintenance/  sez  he,  *be  playin'  a  game  av 
long  Dinnis  ?'  sez  he.  'No,  sir,  sez  Oi.  'Oi'm  very  sorry  to 
disoblige  yez,  sir/  sez  Oi,  'but  my  Dinny  waz  a  shmall  man 
an3  he  nuver  taitched  me  anny  game/  sez  Oi,  'so  Oi  know 
nawthin'  about  long  Dinnis  or  short  Dinnis  aither/  sez  Oi, 
'so  yez'll  have  to  'shkyuse  me/  sez  Oi.  Th'  poor  man  got 
red  in  th'  face  an'  wint  away  laughin',  an'  th'  colored  cook 
towld  me  nuxt  mawrnin'  that  they  plays  long  Dinnis  out 
an  th'  grass  wud  base  balls  an'  big  shnow  shoes  to  ketch 
thim  in.  Uver  afther  that  th'  man  laught  fwhin  Oi  pasht 
him  by,  but  we  didn't  shpaik.  It  didn't  take  me  lang 
afther  that  to  clane  me  shkerts  away  from  thim  grangers, 
an'  be  Heavins  aff  annybody  uver  foinds  me  shpendin'  me 
toime  in  th'  counthry  they  kin  feed  me  fur  bait  to  th' 
mullet  heads." 


SUNDAY  IN  CENTRAL  PARK. 

"Oi  wint  out  to  Centhril  Parruk  lasht  Soonda',  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty." 

"An'  a  foine  toime  Oi  shuppose  ye  had,  too,  Mrs.  Ma- 
googin  ?" 

"Oh,  not  so  very  foine,  aither,  me  frind." 

"An' f why,  tell  me?" 

"Uv'ry  fwhy.  D'ye  see,"  said  the  Widow,  "Oi  wint  out 
walkin'  wud  Barney  Thurlogash,  th'  foinesht  shtrip  av  a 
man  ye  kud  laive  yer  oyes  an  in  Noo  Yarrick  city,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,  an'  as  nate  an'  arthishtic  a  hod  carrier  as  there 
is  in  Union  No.  Tin — an'  be  th'  same  token,  me  frind,  they 
doon't  call  th'  hod  carriers  hod  carriers  anny  more,  but 
breek  thranslathors,  fwhich  manes  th'  same  thing,  only 
id's  more  hoigh-chooney  an*  in  wan  av  th'  dead  langwidges, 
d'ye  moind.  Well,  Barney  is  a  shplindid  shpecimin  av  th' 


234  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

homo  jaynius,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  he  uxpects  to  be 
med  a  polaiceman  av  afore  manny  moons  passes  uver  his 
rosy  red  head,  me  frind;  but  oh,  my!  he's  th'  j ally o us 
craythur — he  dizn't  laive  me  luk  cruked  at  annythin'  in, 
an  overcoat  ur  that  wears  'shpinders. 

"Oi  wanted  to  walk  around  near  th'  bully  yard  fwhere  th' 
'rishtycrats  droives  out  in  their  tay  an'  coffee  carts  an' 
their  landywows  an'  Queen  Victori's,  but  d'ye  know  fwhat 
Barney  sed?  He  sed  id  was  to  make  shmashes  an  th'  min 
that  Oi  was  afther  an'  he'd  be  keelhauled  by  th'  divil  an* 
dhropped  tin  shtories  into  Hail  Columby  afore  he'd 
permit  anny  woman  to  make  a  moonkey  av  him  in  that 
way,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Thim  war  his  very  wurruds,  me 
frind,  an'  no  amount  av  purshwasion  kud  make  him  purmit 
me  to  go  near  th'  bullyyard.  An'  d'ye  know  fwhat  he 
done?  He  kep'  me  lukin'  at  th'  bears  an'  moonkeys  all 
afthernoon.  Oi  shuppose  he  nuver  wud  have  left  th' 
moonkey  house,  but  Oi  p'inted  out  a  little  brown-fwhish- 
kered  otang-ourang  or  somethin'  av  that  soort,  that  luked 
fur  all  th  wurruld  loike  Barney  fwhin  he's  clain-shaved  av 
Soonda's.  Some  payple  that  war  shtandin'  there  laughed 
at  th'  oidaya,  but  Barney  got  mad  as  a  March  hare  an* 
pulled  me  out  av  th'  place  afore  Oi  kud  uxplain  that  Oi 
didn't  mane  no  harrum  be  fwhat  Oi  sed. 

"We  luked  at  th'  bears  for  a  fwhoile  an'  fwhin  they 
wint  up  an'  down  th'  oiron  ladder  Barney  sez,  sez  he, 
'Begorry,  th'  soons  av  goons  '11  be  carryin'  th'  hod  nuxt/ 
Yurra-ho-ho,  but  we  had  th'  great  toimes  seein'  uv'rythin', 
an'  Barney  tuk  me  into  a  rushtorong.  'Fwhat'll  ye  have  to 
ait,  Berdie?'  sez  he.  'Have  they  anny  fresh  pigs'  feet,  Oi 
wondher,  darlint,'  sez  Oi.  'Oi  think  they  have,'  sez  he. 
'Thin  give  me  some,'  sez  Oi.  'An'  fwhat'll  ye  take  to 
dhrink?'  hez  he.  'Well,  Barney,  acushla,'  sez  Oi,  'Oi 
guess  Oi'll  have  some  shampagny  wather ;  id's  so  long  since 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  23$ 

Oi  dhrank  anny  afore  in  my  loife  that  Oi  doon't  know 
fwhat  id  tastes  loike/  sez  Oi.  'Ye  guess  ye'll  have  some 
shampagny  wather?'  sez  he.  'Yis,'  sez  Oi.  'Well,  Berdie, 
mavourneen,  ye'll  have  to  guess  agin,'  sez  he.  An'  this 
toime,  to  make  sure  av  id,  Oi  guessed  beer.  But  Oi  thawt 
it  so  mane  av  him,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 


THE  CHARITY  BALL. 

"Av  coorse,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Oi  needn't  ax  ye  aff  ye 
war  there,"  said  the  Irish  Widow  to  her  neighbor,  as  both 
sat  in  the  latter's  kitchen  looking  into  the  glow  that  filled 
the  open  front  of  the  cooking  stove. 

"Fwhere?"  asked  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"At  th'  charity  ball,  at  the  Methrolipan  Op'ry  House 
lasht  Choosda'  noight." 

"Well,  thin,  ye  may  be  sure  that  Oi  was  not,"  said  the 
neighbor,  somewhat  crustily. 

"Oi  thought  as  mooch,"  said  Mrs.  Magoogin,  "but  Oi 
axed  th'  kustion  to  be  civil  an'  loikewoise  be  way  av  in- 
throducin'  th'  subject,  do  ye  see?  Oi  had  no  oidaya  av 
makin'  game  av  ye,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  or  av  insiniwatin* 
that  ye  warn't  uv'ry  bit  as  gud  as  anny  wan  was  there. 
Bless  your  heart,  Oi  wasn't  widin  a  moile  av  it  mesil',  so  ye 
see  that's  how  it  is,  an'  me  only  intintion  was  to  say  to  ye, 
bechune  ourselves,  that  it's  a  quare  koind  av  charity  that 
kin  parade  about  in  doimonds  an'  swally-tailed  coats  wan. 
noight  in  th'  year,  an'  th'  resht  av  the  365  days  cut  down 
th'  poor  min's  an'  gerruls'  wages,  widout  sayin'  anythin'  av 
th'  beggars  that's  dhrivin*  from  their  dures  an'  left  to 
shtarve  in  th'  shtreet. 

"Let  me  tell  ye,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that  th'  charity  that 
is  dispinsed  at  foive  an'  tin  dollars  a  tecket  goes  a  very1 


236  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

short  ways.  It's  th'  serkus  shtoyle  av  givin',  a  wan-ring 
show  undher  a  three-ring  tint.  There's  a  great  dale  av 
hooray  an  paper,  but  divil  th'  mooch  av  it  anyfwhere  else. 
Oi  read  a  great  dale  about  th'  charity  ball  an*  th'  foine 
ladies  an'  grand  gintlemin  that  was  there.  Oi  read  about 
th'  doimonds  an'  th'  silks  an'  th'  satins,  an'  fwhin  Oi  did 
BO  Oi  bethought  mesiF  av  a  poor  family  in  th'  big  Ashley 
buildin'  down  an  Forsyth  shtreet  belyow,  that's  near 
death's  dure  from  hunger  an'  sickniss,  an'  sez  Oi  to 
mesil',  'mebbe  aff  Oi'd  take  this  paper  down  there  to  thim 
poor  crathures  an'  read  thim  all  this  foine  wroitin',  that 
mebbe  it  ud  fill  their  stomachs  an'  cure  their  disayses !'  Av 
coorse  Oi  wasn't  fool  enoof  to  do  annythin'  loike  that,  me 
frind,  Oi  only  thought  it,  be  way  av  commint,  an'  thin  Oi 
laughed  to  mesil'  to  think  fwhat  fools  th'  wurruld  was 
med  up  av.  A  lot  av  s'soi'ty  ducks  an'  darlints  makes  up 
their  moinds  to  have  a  noight's  injoymint.  They  know 
they'll  have  to  pay  for  it,  annyhow,  so  fwhat  does  they  do 
but  impose  an  a  lot  av  poor  musicians  an'  others,  an'  give 
foive  an  tin  dollars  a  tccket — a  few  hundhert  av  thim — 
to'rds  feedin'  50,000  shtarvin'  sowls  ? 

"Let  me  tell  you,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that  it's  not  th' 
min  that  wears  swally-tails  or  th'  wimmin  that  has  their 
doiminds  that  helps  th'  poor.  No,  indade,  it's  thim  that's 
poor  thimsel'  an'  that  knows  th'  pangs  av  disthress  an* 
poverty  as  helps  th'  craythers  that  are  more  anfortnit.  All 
that  th'  poor  '11  uver  get  out  av  hoigh-chooned  charity 
balls  they  kin  put  in  their  oye.  Oi'm  poor  mesel',  an'  Oi 
nuver  uxpect  anny  help  from  such  a  quarther. 

"No,  nor  divil  a  wan  av  me  ud  accept  it,  aither.  Aff  th' 
worsht  comes  to  the  worsht  wid  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
as  it's  loible  to  do  wid  anny  wan,  Oi'll  jisht  take  that 
owld  shteamboat  clock  av  moine  down  from  th'  kitchen  wall 
an'  raffle  it  aff  fur  fifty  cints  a  chance.  Oi've  done  it  foive 


WIDOW   MAGOOG1N.  237 

toimes  already.  Th'  lasht  toime  it  was  raffled  Arethoosy's 
beau  won  id  an'  wanted  to  take  it  away  wid  him  home  to 
his  moother's  boordin'  house,  but  Oi  towld  the  bandy 
legged  little  Ditch  divil  that  aff  he  dar'd  to  do  as  mooch 
as  lay  his  hands  an  it  Oi'd  brain  him  an  th'  shpot,  so  he 
towld  me  Oi  kud  kape  it.  Nuver  moind,  me  frind,  we'll 
have  a  foine  toime  wid  that  same  clock  yet  afore  it  goes." 


THE  ANIMALS  IN  THE  ZOO. 

"There's  some  moighty  quare  Oirishmin  in  this  wurruld, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Yis,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Moighty  mane  Oirishmin,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Yis,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Polthogues  an'  ballywannies  av  Oirishmin,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty." 

"Yis,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Oy,  an'  turribly  ugly  Oirishmin,  me  frind,"  said  the 
Widow,  shaking  her  head.  "Oi  shuppose  ye  doon't  know 
fwhat  Oi'm  dhroivin'  at,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  Oi  know, 
an  id's  mesil'  that's  shpakin'  id,  too,  d'ye  moind.  Oi'm 
ehpakin'  about  th'  ondaycint  way  that  some  Oirishmin  up  in 
Cinthril  Parruk  put  Oirish  names  an  to  th'  moonkeys  an* 
babboons  an'  hippynotaymuses,  an'  th'  eejiotic  way  thet 
eorne  other  Oirishmin  roise  a  hully-balloo  about  id  an'  set 
th'  whole  counthry  laughin'  at  thim,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty! 
A  moonkey  is  a  moonkey  an'  callin'  him  'Moike'  ur  'Biddy' 
ur  'Misther  Crowley'  ur  'Miss  Murphy'  didn't  make  an 
Oirishmin  av  him  anny  more  than  my  daughther  Toozy's 
marryin'  a  Ditchman  makes  a  sour  krout  out  av  her  mother 
ur  Katie  Clancy's  hittin'  th*  poipe  in  Wan  Lung's  laundhry 


238  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

makes  a  Choinyman  out  av  her.  An'  id  dizn't  him  th' 
names  anny,  nayther,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  They  call  dogs 
an'  harses  an'  burruds  be  all  soorts  av  names — Oirish, 
Frinch  an'  Shcandiloovian — an'  nobody  kicks  about  id. 
Oi've  seen  shtumpy  two-tailed  dogs  that  ud  give  ye  a  fit  to 
luk  at  called  'Beyooty;'  d'ye  moind  that — 'Bee-yoo-ooty,' 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty!  An'  Oi've  seen  crass-oyed  brindle- 
haired  cats  that  ye'd  not  washte  a  bootjack  an  called 
'Christybell,'  an'  shkinny  crobates  av  harses  thet  lukt  as 
aff  they'd  dhrop  dead  in  their  thracks  called  Bonyparte  an* 
divil  th'  wurrud  av  dissintion  uver  Oi  hurd,  ur  contintion 
ayther  about  their  names,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"Fur  me  own  part,  Oi  doon't  see  no  particklar  harrum 
callin'  th'  hippynotaymus  at  Cinthril  Parruk  be  th'  name 
av  Miss  Murphy.  There's  nothin'  so  heejious  about  a 
hippynotaymus,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  Oi'm  sure  there's 
manny  a  Miss  Murphy  in  Noo  Yarrick  thet  ud  be  glad  to  be 
half  as  gud  lukin'  as  her.  But  av  coorse  moonkeys  ar* 
another  thing,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  Oi  felt  a  little  put 
out  about  it  meseP  fwhin  they  called  wan  av  thim  Misther 
Crowley  some  toime  ago,  bekase  Oi  had  a  shweeth'art  wanst 
be  thet  name,  an'  th'  Lord  save  iz  an'  guard  iz,  but  uv'ry 
toime  Oi  wint  to  the  parruk  an'  saw  th'  moonk  Oi  kudn't 
help  thinkin'  about  me  own  poor  darlint  Crowley,  resht 
his  sowl !  He  war  a  han'some  man,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but 
there  was  somethin'  in  th'  moonkey's  faychures  that  re- 
mimbered  me  av  him,  an'  bad  sesht  to  this  soft  heart  uv 
moine  but  id's  manny  an  manny's  the  toime  Oi  bushted 
out  a  cryin'  as  Oi  luked  into  th'  cage.  Oi  was  awful  mad 
at  fusht  about  his  name  bein'  Crowley,  but  afther  a  fwhoile 
Oi  didn't  moind  id,  an'  d'ye  know  that  fwhin  he  doied — th' 
moonkey,  Oi  mane,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty — Oi  purty  near  had 
th'  intintion  av  sendin'  him  a  wraith  av  rosies,  but  Oi  was 
afeert  that  Crowley — th'  other  Crowley,  me  sweetheart, 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  239 

Mrs.  McGlaggerty — wouldn't  loike  it,  so  Oi  didn't  sind 
none,  but  only  wint  up  to  see  him  an'  say  bong-joor  fur 
th'  lasht  toime,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"Now,  Oi  wudn't  care  aff  they  had  foive  hundhert 
Crowleys  in  th'  Parruk,  bekase  Oi  know  thet  none  av  thiin 
kud  be  my  dead  an  'gone  Crowley — not  th'  moonkey  Crow- 
ley,  but  th'  other  wan,  av  coorse — so  thet  they'd  be  no 
worry  to  me,  me  frind.  To  be  coorse,  id  isn't  noice  to  be 
thryin'  to  make  Oirishmin  out  av  moonkeys — but  they 
can't  do  id  anny  more  than  they  kin  make  moonkeys  out  av 
Oirishmin,  an'  th'  sooner  the  shmart  Alicks  up  in  Cin- 
thril  Parruk  abud  foind  out  about  id  th'  betther  for  thim- 
sel's.  Id's  thim  thet's  puttin'  th'  Oirish  names  an  to  thj 
moonkeys — bad  look  to  thim ! — an'  id's  thim  thet  ought  to 
be  in  th'  cages  hangin'  be  their  tails,  inshtud  av  th' 
moonkeys,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 


AT  THE  LIEDERKRANZ  BALL. 

"D'ye  moind  that,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?"  said  the  Widow 
Magoogin,  holding  up  a  fancy  costume  so  that  her  neighbor 
could  see  it  across  the  fence. 

"Sure  an'  fwhat  is  id,  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 

"It's  th'  dhress  Oi  wore  at  th'  Ladykranks'  ball  lasht 
noight !" 

"At  th'  Ladykranks'  is  id?"  said  the  neighbor,  in  open- 
mouthed  astonishment.  "An*  war  ye  at  th'  Ladykranks' 
ball  wud  a  mishkitty-bar  an  ye,  Mrs.  Magoogin?  Is  id 
takin'  laive  av  yer  sinses,  woman,  that  ye  ar'." 

[The  costume  was  of  diaphanous  material  such  as  a 
Circassian  beauty  might  wear  or  a  fairy  clothe  her  liths 
limbs  in.  It  was  a  Cleopatra  costume  which  the  Widow 
Magoogin  had  worn  at  the  Liederkranz  masquerade.] 

"Musha,  but  id's  th'  ignerint  crayther  ye  ar'  intoirely, 


240  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow.  "Th'  oidaya  av  callin' 
a  foine  Clayepathria  coshtoom  loike  that  a  mishkitty-bar ! 
Urra,  wurra,  but  isn'd  id  awful  to  be  towlt  be  a  human 
bein'  that  have  two  oyes  in  her  head  that  a  grand  twoi- 
loight  loike  this  is  only  a  common  mishkitty-bar.  Begorry, 
but  id's  moighty  gud  fur  ye,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that  Oi 
have  somethin'  in  me  hand  ur  Oi'd  throw  a  head  av  cabbage 
at  ye,  so  Oi  wud.  Mishkitty-bar,  indade !  Aff  ye'd  only 
seen  me  wud  th'  coshtoom  an  an'  two  fwhoite  feathers 
shtuck  up  out  av  me  head  loike  th'  cockades  that  they 
wears  in  th'  A.  0.  H.  on  St.  Pathrick's  Day,  an'  a  shtring 
av  doimonds  around  me  nick  as  big  as  goose  eggs,  an* 
bracelits  an  me  ankles,  an'  lockits  an  me  arrums,  an' 
doidoes  an'  gewgaws  all  over  me  till  Oi  lucked  loike  f  what 
Oi  railly  was — a  jimpnezee  princess — that  bein'  th'  char- 
aether  Oi  had  tukened  fur  th'  ball,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty ! 

"Ow  wow!  but  mebbe  Oi  didn't  make  a  shmash  an  th' 
bryewery  min.  They  sed  Oi  was  purfeckly  lovely,  an'  ye 
kud  see  me  shtockin's  abow  me  knees,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
Oh,  but  they  war  the  foinest  silk  ye  uver  laid  yer  two  oyes 
an.  Wan  Ditchman  said  Oi  was  purtier  than  Patti,  an* 
that  owld  divil  av  a  milkman  Dinkelshpiel  said  that  me 
legs  war  that  round  an'  bewtiful  that  Oi  ought  to  go  to 
th'  Cassino  an'  get  a  job  in  th'  bally.  To  tell  th'  trooth, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Oi  was  that  nakid  in  me  jimpnezee  cosh 
toom  that  Oi  was  afeert  uv'ry  minnit  Ant'ny  Comshtock  ud 
dhrap  in  an'  arresht  me  for  laivin'  my  clothes  at  home. 

"But  ora  my,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  ye  shud  see  th'  other 
charackthers.  Ton  me  sowl,  ail  it  didn't  luk  to  me  that 
divil  a  stitch  at  all  some  av  th'  min  had  an  thim  an'  they 
were  th*  very  bla'guards  that  kep  f  olly'in'  me  around  th'  ball 
all  th'  toime.  There  was  wan  fellow  in  partecklur,  wud 
a  red  shoot  av  undherclothes  an'  two  horns  shtickin'  up 
out  av  his  forrtid— - Mickey  Stuffedwudfloys,  Oi  think  they 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  241 

called  him — he  foiled  me  round  an'  round  an'  was  throwin* 
his  shkwints  over  me  way  antil  Oi  walked  up  to  him,  an', 
shtickin'  me  finger  andher  his  nose,  Oi  sez  to  him,  sez  Oi : 
'See  here  now,  owld  Sour  krout,'  sez  Oi,  'aff  ye  take  me 
fur  a  Ditch  wainer-wusht  aiter  ye're  mushtaken,'  sez  Oi. 
'So  shinny  an  yer  own  soide  from  this  out,'  sez  Oi,  an'  wid 
that  Oi  turned  me  boick  to  him  an'  walked  aff.  Oi  thought 
he  was  goin'  to  shoot  me  at  f usht,  bekase  he  said  sumthin'  j 
about  his  shots,  but  Hinnery  towlt  me  that  shots  warn't 
bullets  in  Ditch  at  all,  but  that  it  maint  a  beau,  an'  fwhin 
he  was  callin'  me  his  shots,  acushla,  he  was  only  callin'  me 
his  shweetheart.  D'ye  moind  that  fur  gall,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty? 

"Toozy  was  dhressed  an'  painted  up  to  luk  loike  Mrs. 
Langthry,  an'  Tammy  sed  she  luked  very  much  loike  the 
Jursey  Lily,  only  she  was  so  diffrunt.  Hinnery,  the  little 
Ditch  moiser,  an  whose  account  we  wint  to  th'  ball,  was 
coshtoomed  to  luk  loike  Adonis,  an'  he  was  very  purty, 
too,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  only  his  not  havin'  any  pants  an  his 
bow-legs  sthuck  out  all  th'  crukeder.  Well,  fwhat  wud  th' 
ehmashin'  an'  beer  dhrinkin'  an'  dancin',  we  had  more  foon 
than  ye'd  foind  in  a  Mulberry  Shtreet  funeril.  Oi  dhrunk 
twinty-noine  glasses  av  beer,  an'  divil  a  wan  av  me  knows 
how  Oi  got  home.  The  lasht  thing  Oi  renumber  is  thryin* 
to  boite  a  polaiceman's  thumb  aff  out  an  Broadway  an* 
gettin'  a  clout  av  a  club  on  th'  top  av  th'  timple  that  pit 
me  to  shleep.  Hinnery's  down  in  jail  belyow  uver  since, 
an'  Toozy  '11  not  taalk  to  me  bekase  she  sez  Oi  was  th'  cause 
of  Hinnery's  bein'  arreshted.  My  blessin's  on  th'  peeler 
that  arreshted  th'  little  yally-nicked  anfortnit,  an'  may  he 
be  hung  yet  fur  laidin'  a  noice  dacint,  aisy-goin'  widdy 
woman  into  makin'  sivin  koinds  av  a  fool  av  herseF  in 
dhressin'  up  as  Clayepathria  an'  goin'  to  th'  Ladykranks* 
ball!" 


DAYS  WE  CELEBRATE. 


DAYS   WE    CELEBRATE. 


ST.  PATKICK'S  DAY. 

"Oi'm  dustin'  off  me  velvet  shamarogue  to  have  it  readdy 
fur  Monda',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"That's  so,  id's  Paathrick's  Day,  isn'd  id,  Mrs.  Ma- 
googin?" 

"Yis,  id's  Paathrick's  Day,"  said  the  Widow,  "an'  Oi 
hope  id'll  be  a  foine  day  undher  fut  annyhow,  fur  they  tell 
me  tin  thousan'  min  '11  walk  an'  there'll  be  as  foine  a  turn 
out  as  th'  town  uver  saw.  My  Tammy  talks  uv  j'inin'  th' 
Ah-Oh-Eich  (A.  0.  H.)  nuxt  year  himsel',  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty,  an'  Oi  hope  he  will,  fur  he's  th'  makin's  av  an 
illigint  sojer,  an'  he'll  luk  purtier  wud  his  fwhoite  feather 
an'  green  sash  than  uver  th'  Prince  av  Wales  dar'd  to  luk 
in  his  loife.  But  talkin'  av  Paathrick's  Day,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty,  wud  ye  moind,  but  didn't  Oi  come  near  givin'  a 
young  jood  an  th'  Bow'ry  a  clout  in  th'  lug  that  ud  knock 
him  into  th'  middle  av  nuxt  waik?  Min  was  clainin'  th' 
shtreets  an'  he  up  an'  sez,  sez  he :  'Id's  aisy  to  know  that 
Oireland  isn't  free  yet,'  sez  he,  shpakin'  to  himsel'-loike, 
but  Oi  hurrud  him  an'  axed  him  how  was  that  ?  'Bekase,' 
sez  he,  'they  always  clain  th'  shtreets  fur  th'  St.  Paathrick's 
Day  parade,'  sez  he.  'Ah-ha,'  sez  Oi,  'an'  is  that  so?' 
'Yis,'  sez  he,  in  th'  sickly  way  thim  joods  shpakes  to  a 

[245] 


246  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

purson.  'Indade/  sez  Oi.  'Well,  now,  me  owld  pithogue, 
as  flip  an'  as  flop  as  ye  think  yersil'  to  be,'  sez  Oi,  'ye're  not 
flooy  enoof  to  be  afther  makin'  foon  av  yer  betthers,  sor/ 
sez  Oi.  'Ye're  nothin'  but  a  worthless  boosthoon,  an'  Oi'll 
have  ye  undhershtand,  me  laddybuck,  that  th'  faist  av  St. 
Paathrick  is  a  naytional  holiday  loike  th'  Foorth  av  Juloy 
or  Aisther,  an'  be  Heavins,'  sez  Oi,  'there's  no  harrum  in 
th'  min  that  walks  th'  shtreets  clainin'  thim  wanst  a  year, 
is  there  ?'  sez  Oi.  He  shmoiled  agin  an'  tuk  aff  his  hat  an' 
cut  a  number  av  doidoes,  but  Oi  dhrew  back  an'  towlt  him 
to  get  out  av  that  ur  Oi'd  take  th'  shape  out  av  his  panties 
fur  him.  You  kin  bet  yer  loife  he  flew,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
Id's  astonishin'  to  me  th'  ignoorance  av  so  manny  payple, 
me  frind.  They  think  th'  Oirish  is  woild  baists  ur  chim- 
panzoos  an'  that  they  have  no  roight  to  cellybrate  Paath- 
rick's  Day  at  all,  at  all.  Oi  always  loike  to  have  th'  shance 
to  answer  thim  back,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Id  takes  me  to 
tell  thim  who  an'  fwhat  th'  Oirish  ar'.  Oh,  my !  but  Oi'd 
loike  to  be  a  man,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Aff  Oi  was,  you'd 
see  me  proudly  marchin'  behoind  th'  band  wud  me  hat  an' 
feather  an  St.  Paathrick's  Day.  An'  pur'aps  Oi'd  get 
b'ilin',  too,  afore  th'  noight  was  over,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 


"Fwhere  war  ye  Paathrick's  Day?"  the  Widow  asked, 
when  she  met  her  neighbor  yesterday  morning. 

"Faith  'n'  Oi  was  in  th'  house  restin'  me  bones,"  said  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty ;  "for  Oi  was  too  tired  with  workin'  to  be  out 
galavantin'  around.  Where  was  yerseP  ?" 

"Fwhere  diz  ye  think  Oi'd  be  ?"  asked  the  Widow,  indig 
nantly,  "but  out  along  th'  loine  av  march,  fwhere  uv'ry 
dacint  Oirishman  an'  woman  shud  be,  honorin'  th'  mimory 
av  St.  Paathrick.  God  bless  'im !  Yes,  indade,  Oi  was  out 
an  the  av'noo  lukin'  at  th'  purcession,  an'  it's  th'  grand 
purcession  it  was,  too,  an'  as  foine  a  body  of  min  an'  as 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  247 

byootiful  a  lot  av  foifes  an'  dhnims  as  ye'd  uxpect  to  foind 
bechuxt  this  an'  Ballinasloe.  Begorry,  Oi  was  glad  Oi  wint, 
fur  th'  soight  did  me  oyes  gud.  It  med  me  feel  as  young 
an'  loight  h'arted  as  Oi  was  th'  mawrnin'  Oi  landed  in 
Cash'le  Gardin  belyow,  twinty-noine  year  ago  lasht  Satur- 
da',  fwhin  me  cheeks  war  red  an'  me  face  round  an'  me  fay- 
tures  han'some,  an'  there  wasn't  a  lad  bechuxt  th'  Bathery 
an'  th'  Bullyvards  that  ud  not  give  wan  av  his  hands  aff  his 
arrum  to  be  able  to  call  me  his  own  little  baby.  We  had 
bin  thurty-wan  days  an  th'  say,  an'  naither  th'  roughness 
av  the  wather,  nor  the  toughness  av  the  grub 
that  we  got  aboord  ship  had  desthr'y'd  th'  mim'ry 
av  darlint  owld  Oirland  as  Oi  last  saw  it,  wud  its 
clear  skoys  an'  its  green  hills  sinkin'  into  th'  say,  as  we 
sailed  out  av  Queenstown.  Oi  thought  av  that  picthur  uv 
Paathrick's  Day  agin,  an'  the  Lord  bless  yer  sowl,  fwhoile 
Oi  was  thinkin'  av  it,  didn't  Oi  imagine  that  Oi  saw  me  own 
poor  Dinny,  God  have  marcy  an  him,  sittin'  an  a  prancin* 
fwhoite  harse  in  th'  procession,  wud  a  bokay  in  his  hand 
an'  wraiths  av  flyowers,  as  round  as  a  wagon  fweel,  rowled 
about  his  own  an'  the  harse's  neck.  But  it  wasn't  Dinny 
at  all — fur  Dinny's  dead  an'  gone,  poor  fellow,  this  noine 
year — but  it  war  wan  av  th'  gran'  marshals,  jisht  as  my 
Dinny  ushed  to  be  fwhin  he  was  th'  prisidint  av  th'  Sham- 
arocks  S'cie'ty  an'  borried  Pat  O'Hara's  fwhoite  harse 
f ram  th'  caart  that  th'  harse  hauled  fwhin  he  wasn't  carryin* 
Dinny  in  th'  purcessions,  to  roide  him  at  th'  head  av  th* 
s'sci'ty.  Oh,  but  thim  war  the  gay  days  fur  Oireland  an* 
th'  resht  av  iz.  There's  no  more  Paathrick's  Days  loike 
thim.  Bad  look  to  fwhatuver  it  is  that  med  th'  change,  an* 
may  th'  divil  make  his  nesht  in  th'  heart  av  th'  man  that 
fusht  invinted  th'  wurrud  Oirish-Amerikins,  fur  wud  that 
wurrud  kem  imsforchin  an'  disgrace  to  thim  that  didn't 
desarve  it.  Fwhat  diz  it  mane,  annyhow  ?  An'  f  what  is  it 


248  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

mint  to  mane?  Nawthin'  but  a  shlur  upon  a  naytunality 
that  ought  to  be  proud  av  their  name,  an'  grateful  to  thim 
that  gev  thim  their  name.  Oirish-Amerikin,  indade,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty!  Who  uver  heard  av  Ditch- Amerikins,  or 
Frinch-Amerikins,  or  Scotch-Amerikins,  or  Choinaise- 
Amerikins?  A  Ditchman's  son  is  jisht  as  Ditch  as  he  is 
himsel'.  A  Frinchman's  kids  are  Johnnie  Crappows  or 
Parlee-voo-Frongsaises,  loike  himsel'.  But  an  Oirishman's 
son  is  an  Oirish-Amerikin,  an'  aff  he  lives  long  enoof,  be 
Heavins,  there's  no  more  Oirish  left  av  him  than  there 
is  av  blue  left  in  a  pig  f when  he's  painted  red.  Musha,  bad 
sesht  to  thim,  is  it  ashamed  they  are  av  their  fathers,  or 
fwhat,  that  they  don't  want  to  be  known  as  Oirishmin? 
Faix  'n'  th'  fact  that  they  ar'  Oirish  ought  to  be  th'  proud- 
esht  feather  in  their  cap.  That's  f  what  Oi  towlt  Arethoosy 
yistherdy,  fwhin  she  was  makin'  foon  av  red-headed  gerruh 
wearin'  green  ribbons.  'See  here,  me  foine  lady,'  sez  Oi  to 
her/thim  gerruls  ar5  a  credit  to  th'  mothers  that  bore  thim/ 
eez  Oi,  'an'  fwhether  it's  th'  red  hair  or  th'  green  ribbon/ 
eez  Oi,  'that  ye're  makin'  game  av/  sez  Oi,  'take  care  an* 
remimber,  me  shnouty  little  daisy/  sez  Oi,  'that  yer  own 
mother's  hair  is  red,  an'  that  she's  Oirish,  too,  to  th'  back 
bone/  sez  Oi,  'an'  Galway  at  that.'  Me  daughter  med  some 
Bhloightin'  remark  about  th'  Oirish  makin'  moonkeys  av 
thimselves  an'  Pathrick's  Day,  an'  thin  Oi  up  an'  towlt 
her  that  th'  vury  wusht  av  thim  was  betther  nor  she  dar* 
be,  an'  that  Oi  was  glad  she  was  laivin'  thim  an'  goin'  into 
a  Ditch  family,  fur  thin  she'd  have  to  ait  sour  krout  an* 
dhrink  kimmel,  an'  fur  my  part  sour  krout  an'  wainey- 
wushes  an'  kimmel  was  worse  nor  green  ribbons  an'  red 
hair  anny  day.  Th'anam  an'  Dhiaoul,  woman,  but  ye  ought 
to  see  th'  way  she  cocked  up  her  nose  fwhin  Oi  med  this 
remark  about  her  Ditch  beau.  Begorra,  Oi  thought  she'd 
break  th'  bridge  av  it,  she  twishted  it  so  hoigh,  an'  Oi  med 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  249 

a  clip  at  it  wud  me  hand  that  ud  have  taken  a  kink  or  two 
out  av  it,  but  she  dodged  aff,  an'  that  was  th'  lasht  Oi  see 
av  her  till  she  kem  home  nuxt  mawrnin'  f  ram  th'  ball  av  th' 
Brian  Bora  Shocial  Club.  Th'  nuxt  mawrnin',  Mrs.  Mo 
Glaggerty !  Fwhat  dez  ye  think  av  that  fur  a  gerl  ?  She's 
ashamed  av  Oireland  in  th'  dayloight,  but  afther  dark, 
whack-fal-loo-ral,  aff  she  goes  an'  dances  th'  shoes  she  ped 
two  dollar  fur  aff  her  feet  in  honor  av  St.  Paathrick,  an' 
divil  th'  shtep  she  comes  near  th'  house  antil  th'  sun's  ready 
to  roise  th'  nuxt  mawrnin'.  There's  a  gerl  fur  ye — not  an 
Oirish  gerl,  though,  but  an  Oirish-Amerikin,  aff  ye  plaise. 
Renumber  that,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 


SHE  EECEIVES  A  VALENTINE. 

"Tell  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  wud  fwhich  hand  do  ye 
do  yer  wroitin'  ?" 

"Wud  naither,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Is  that  so?" 

"Yis,  id's  so,  Mrs.  Magoogin.    Fur  fwhy  d'ye  ax  me  ?" 

"Oh,  fur  no  fwhy.  Oi  jusht  thawt  Oi'd  ax  ye,  that's  all, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Is  id  th'  thruth  ye're  shpakin',  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 

"Divil  a  wurrud  av  loie,  me  frind.  Th'  kustion  happint 
into  me  moind,  an'  Oi  axt  ye — nuthin'  else." 

"Fwhishper,  ashtore — isn't  id  a  wallintoine  some  wan 
sint  ye,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"Ah-ha !  me  f oine  lady,  Oi  thawt  so !"  said  the  Widow, 
shaking  her  finger  across  the  fence  at  her  neighbor.  "Oi 
thawt  ye  know'd  somethin'  about  id  an'  Oi  wasn't  far  wrong 
in  me  surmoisin'.  Doon't  shake  yer  mane  owld  red  head, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  rowl  yer  oyes  like  a  Prasbytairyan 


25O  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

praicher,  fur  all  that  ye  moight  say  f ram  now  to  doomsday 
id  not  make  me  belaive  ye  didn't  sind  id.  Fwhat's  that? 
Ye  didn't,  eh?  Well,  thin,  ye  know  who  did  sind  it,  at 
laist,  an',  be  all  that's  gud  an'  blissid,  aff  Oi  know'd  her 
Oi'd  not  laive  an  oye  in  her  head  but  fwhat  Oi'd  pluck  out 
an'  give  to  me  goat  beyant  to  ait.  Th'  oidaya  av  sindin* 
me  a  wallintoine — makin'  me  out  as  heejous  as  a  hoyaina — 
wud  red  crass-oyes  an'  green  hair  an'  a  nose  loike  a  b'iled 
bait,  an'  a  yard  av  red  flannin  shtraimin'  out  av  me  mout', 
an'  thin'  a  bit  av  printin'  undher  th'  pecthur  callin'  me  a 
flannin-mout'ed  Mick-faced  Toork,  an'  a  song  benaith  id 
all  that  sed: 

Twhin  spayciments  loike  this  id  sinds 

Acrass  th'  broiny  sea, 
Do  ye  think  id's  anny  wandher 
That  owld  Oireland  isn't  free  ?' 

"Isn't  that  a  purty  thing  to  sind  to  a  lady  that's  tindin' 
to  her  own  bizness  an'  raisin'  her  family  dacintly  ?  Oi  was 
nuver  so  turribly  insulted  in  all  me  loife,  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty.  Bad  sesh  to  thim  that  sint  th'  wallintoine  an'  may 
they  nuver  live  to  sind  another,  but  fwhy  in  th'  name  av 
all  that's  holy  shud  they  pick  me  out  to  make  f  oon  av  me  ? 
Sure  V  Oi've  no  flannin  an  me  mout,  have  Oi,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty  ?  An'  me  hair's  not  green  ur  me  eyes  red,  though 
there  may  be  the  sloightesht  little  bit  av  a  casht  in  wan  av 
thim  that  nobody  id  uver  notice  ?  There's  nawthin'  about 
th'  pecthur,  howsomuver  ye  considher  id,  that  resimbles 
me,  an'  yet  they  sind  id,  to  me.  Divil  pull  th'  liver  out  av 
thim,  but  Oi'll  get  aivin  wud  thim  yet.  Oi'll  make  thim 
dance !  Mark  my  wurrud,  they'll  be  sarry  fur  fwhat  they 
done  this  day,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Do  ye  know,  me  frind, 
Oi've  an  oidaya  that  id  was  that  big  fat  shlobber  av  a 
Ditch  woman,  Hinnery's  mother,  that  sint  me  that  wal- 


WIDOW   MAGOOG1N.  2$  I 

lintoine.  My  Tammy  see  somebody  wrote  me  name  an  id 
wild  their  lift  hand.  That's  jisht  fwhat  th'  Ditch  id  do. 
They'd  ait  bologny  sossidge  ur  sour  krout  wild  wan  hand 
fwhoile  they'd  be  wroitin'  wud  th'  other.  But  nuver  moind, 
Oi'll  foind  her  out  an'  fwhin  Oi  do,  God  help  her !  There'll 
be  a  dead  Ditch  woman  in  th'  morgue,  an'  th'  coort'll  be 
throyin'  a  'flannin-mouthed,  Mick-faced  Toork'  fur  nmr- 
dher,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 


APEIL  FOOL. 

"They  kudn't  April  fool  this  chicken,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty." 

"Fwhy,  who  throied  to  April  fool  ye,  Mrs.  llagoogin  ?" 
"Oh,  nuver  moind.    Somebody  throied  id,  that's  ail.    But 
they  got  beyootifully  left,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Sure  'n'  fwhat  did  they  do  to  ye,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 
"Fwhat  did  they  do?"  said  the  Widow,  craftily.  "Oy, 
there's  the  rub !  Fwhat  did  they  do ?  Ha-ha!  They  didn't 
do  nothin',  so  they  didn't.  Oi  was  too  cute  fur  thim,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty.  But  Oi'll  tell  fwhat  they  throied  to  do. 
They  thought  they  had  an  aisy  wan  to  dale  wid,  Oi  shup- 
pose,  but  they  found  out  deffrunt,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
Fwhisper,  me  frind,  an'  Oi'll  tell  ye,  but  doon't  breathe  a 
wurrud  av  id  to  single  solitary  livin'  sowl,  ur  be  all  that's 
blissid  an'  howly  divil  th'  'nother  wurrud  Oi'll  say  to  ye  th' 
longesht  day  ye're  an  top  av  th'  airth,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
Do  ye  moind  fwhat  Oi'm  af ther  tellin'  ye  now  ?  Well,  this 
is  th'  way  they  throied  to  April  fool  me:  Yistherda' 
mornin'  fwhin  Oi  kem  home  from  church  there  was  a 
letther  waitin'  fur  me.  It  was  written  an  blyue  paper  wud 
fwhoite  ink  an'  rowl'd  up  in  a  large  square  inweloape. 


252  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

'Who  is  id  fram,  Toozy,  alanna?'  sez  Oi  to  me  aaughther, 
sez  Oi.  'How  shud  Oi  know,  mimmaw?'  sez  she.  'Well, 
Oi'm  sure  aff  ye  doon't  wud  yer  edgicashin,  mavourneen/ 
sez  Oi,  'how  do  ye  shuppose  yer  poor  owld  mother  id  know  ?' 
sez  Oi.  'Id  haves  a  crest  an'  'crass-bones  an  id,  mimmaw/ 
sez  she.  'Thin  id  musht  be  fram  a  dhrug  shtore,  Toozy, 
me  darlint,'  sez  Oi.  'No,  mimmaw,  id's  fram  a  s'sci'ty  man ; 
mebbe  it's  Ward  McAllisther,'  sez  she.  Wud  that  she  tore 
id  opin  an'  there  was  the  blyue  letther  writtin  in  fwhoite 
ink  insoide  av  id.  Toozy  reads  wroitin'  as  aisy  as  aff  id  was 
printin',  an'  this  is  somethin'  loike  f what  she  found  in  id  : 

"  'Me  own  Dear  H'arts  blud  av  a  Burdie — Shwait  cray- 
thure  an'  shoinin'  gim  av  me  sowl,  Oi  saw  ye  in  church  lasht 
Sunda'  lukin'  loike  a  rosy-cheeked  Coopid  in  a  bowl  av  oice 
craim  an'  Oi  fell  dead  in  love  wud  ye.  Oi'm  crazy  fur  ye 
to  be  moine.  All  th'  jewlyury  in  th'  wurruld  is  nothin'  to 
me  compared  wud  th'  shmoile  an  yer  oye.  Oi'm  wurth  a 
thousan'  million  dollars  an"  Oi  have  harses  an'  carridges 
an'  sarvints  an'  slaves,  but  Oi  can't  live  widout  ye.  Will 
you  grant  me  th'  condesinshin  av  an  interview.  Aff  so, 
meet  me  Sathurda'  afthernune  at  three  pay  im  at  th'  cawr- 
ner  av  a  Hundherd  an'  Twinty-fifth  sthreet  an'  Linnox 
Av'noo.  Wear  your  green  shawl  an'  carry  a  red  radish  in 
yer  roight  hand,  so  that  ye'll  be  able  to  rayoccognoize  me. 
Antil  thin  wud  a  thoonrnin'  heart  full  av  th'  mushmelons 
av  love,  yours,  very  thruly,  TAYLIMACHUS  O'DOOLEY/ 

"  'Oh,  isn't  id  grand,  mimmaw  ?'  sez  she.  Twhat  ?'  sez 
Oi.  'Fwhy,  ye've  med  a  shmash  an  a  milliyonaire,"  sez  she. 
Upon  me  wurrud  the  letther  at  fust  tuk  me  breath  away, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi  didn't  know  fwhether  Oi  was 
shtandin'  an  me  head  or  me  heels  for  foive  minnits,  but 
Oi  kept  me  sinses  about  me  an'  Oi  didn't  purtind  that  Oi 
was  in  the  laist  frushtrated.  'Gimme  that  letter,  Toozy/ 
sez  Oi.  'Fwhy,  fwhat  ar*  ye  goin'  to  do  wud  id,  mimmaw  V 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  253 

eez  she.  'Give  id  to  Shuperinthinder  Byrnes/  sez  Oi,  'an' 
have  th'  man  that  wrote  id  arreshtid  fur  blackmail  an* 
arson/  sez  Oi.  'But,  mimmaw/  sez  she,  an'  she  wint  an 
to  tell  me  fwhat  an  hanner  it  id  be  fur  me  to  marry  a 
milliyonaire  an'  make  her  an  heiress  an'  all  that,  but  Oi 
was  insoolted,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  Oi  had  dayturmined 
an  my  coorses.  Oi  didn't  go  near  Byrnes  at  all,  but  Oi  pit 
an  me  green  shawl  this  afthernune  an'  bought  a  boonch  av 
red  radishes  at  th'  grocer's  beyant,  for  fear  wan  av  thim 
id  make  Mr.  O'Dooley  sick  an'  up  Oi  wint  to  a  Hundherd 
an'  Twinty-fifth  sthreet. 

"Oi  shtud  on  th'  cawrner  fully  three  hours  antil  th'  po- 
laiceman  towld  me  to  go  home  an'  quit  makin'  a  fool  av  me- 
sel',  an'  divil  th'  hoide  nor  hair  av  a  yours  throoly,  Telima- 
chus  O'Dooley  did  Oi  see,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  An'  id's  a 
moighty  good  thing  fur  him  that  Oi  didn't,  me  frind,  ur 
Ofd  a  let  him  know  purty  quick  that  he  had  no  roight  to  be 
wroitin'  letthers  to  a  daycint  an'  hannerabil  widdy  woman 
loike  me.  Oi  wint  up  to  ketch  a  howlt  av  him  an'  give 
him  a  piece  av  me  moind,  that's  all.  Fwhin  Oi  kem  boick, 
Toozy  an'  Tammy  begon  to  p'int  their  fingers  at  me  an* 
to  say  'April  fool/  but  they  didn't  fool  me.  Oi  was  thryin' 
to  fool  yours  throoly  Tclimachus  O'Dooley.  Fwhat's  that  ? 
Mebbe  Toozy  an'  Tammy  sint  me  th'  letther?  Begorries, 
Oi  nuver  thought  about  that.  Well,  wait  till  Oi  lay  howlt 
av  thim.  Mebbe  Oi  won't  April  fool  thim  wud  a  cut  in  th' 
poll  that'll  purvint  thim  fram  laughin'  fur  a  six  moonth, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 


254  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 


A  BOCK  BEER  DAY  EXPERIENCE. 

"Tell  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  did  ye  have  anny  book 
beer  to  dhrink  yeshterda',  Oi  doon't  know?"  the  Widow 
Magoogin  asked,  as  she  appeared  at  the  fence  with  one 
hand  tenderly  patting  the  top  of  her  bandaged  head. 

"That's  so,"  said  the  neighbor,  taking  the  question  as  a 
cue  for  a  remark  instead  of  answering  it.  "That's  so ;  yes- 
therda'  was  book  beer  day,  wasn't  it  ?" 

"Troth,  V  that's  fwhat  it  was,  alanna,"  Mrs.  Magoogin 
replied,  with  a  tone  of  sorrow  in  her  voice.  "An'  it's  my 
head's  payin'  up  fur  it  this  same  mawrnin',  too,  bad  sesht 
to  it  an'  th'  divil's  left  oye  an'  thim  that  med  it  fwhat  it  is. 
Sure  an'  poor  innocint  me  had  no  more  notion  av  its  bein' 
book  beer  day  than  Oi  have  now  that  it's  Chrishtmas  Eve 
or  th'  Foorth  av  Juloy ;  but  Mrs.  McKeyone  kem  over  in  th' 
afthernoon  to  tell  me  about  Peg  Hoolagin's  daughther 
bein'  arreshted  an'  taken  to  th'  coort  fur  kickin'  her  owld 
father  in  th'  jaw — an'  it's  th'  h'art-shkaldin'  toimes  they 
diz  be  havin'  in  that  fam'ly,  be  the  same  token'  baitin,  an' 
killin'  th'  owld  man  uv'ry  noight.  Well,  thin,  Mrs.  Mc 
Keyone  washt  in  th'  house  manny  minnits  fwhin  Oi  sint 
Tammy  out  fur  a  can  av  beer,  an'  th'  two  av  iz  dhranked 
it  down  bechuxt  the  talkin',  an'  fwhin  it  was  gone  nawthin' 
nd  do  Mrs.  McKeyone  but  she  musht  sind  out  fur  a  can,  an* 
fwhat  wid  talkin'  an'  not  thinkin',  afore  it  was  toime  fur 
Arethoosy  to  come  home  fram  wurruk  we  had  mebbe  three 
or  foor  cans  taken,  an'  our  tongues  war  flyin'  loike  th' 
clappers  av  a  bell. 

"Nayther  av  iz  notisht  anny  effect  av  th'  beer,  fur  it's 
manny's  th'  afthernoon  Oi've  had  fifteen  or  twinty  glasses 
an'  felt  it  no  more'n'  aff  it  war  that  mooch  wather;  but 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  255 

fwin  Arethoosy  kem  in  an'  saw  th'  cans  an'  glasses  shtandin* 
an  the  table  she  opened  her  oyes  as  big  as  church  windies  an' 
eez  to  me,  sez  she:  'Fwhy,  mother,  f what's  that  ye're 
dhrinkin  ?'  'It's  book  beer — doon't  ye  know — an'  it'll  make 
ye  dhrunk,  mother.'  Thin  she  lukt  hard  at  Mrs.  Mc- 
Keyone,  who  dizn't  loike  a  bone  in  her  body — an'  no  more 
diz  she  loike  Mrs.  McKeyone  ayther — an'  up  she  cockt  her 
nose,  an'  tossin'  back  her  head  she  shwept  hersel'  out  into 
th'  kitchen.  Mrs.  McKeyone  was  so  mad  that  she  lukt 
cross-oyed  afther  her  an'  mutthered  somethin'  about  her 
bein'  shtuck  up.  Arethoosy  thrusht  in  her  head  an'  called 
Mrs.  McKeyone  a  beer-shluggin'  owld  thramp.  Thin  up 
lept  Mrs.  McKeyone,  blaytin'  loike  a  nanny-goat,  wud  her 
n-yah-ha-ha-ha !  an'  sed  Arethoosy  was  a  red-headed  an' 
shkint-oyed  shnip  av  an  upshtart  that  didn't  know  how  to 
woipe  her  own  nose,  an'  she  had  no  bezniss  callin'  names 
to  thim  that  war  betther  than  anny  av  hers  dar  ever  be. 
'Fwhishper,  there,  Mrs.  McKeyone,'  sez  Oi,  'take  care  f  what 
ye  say.'  'Oi'll  take  care  nawthin','  sez  she,  as  mad  as  a  bull 
wud  a  red  rag  toied  to  her  tail.  'Oi'll  take  care  av  naythin',' 
sez  she.  'The  McKeyones  had  their  own  houses  an'  man- 
shuns  an'  palaces  in  Oireland  fwhin  th'  Magoogins  war 
aither  beggin'  or  shtailin'.'  'They  had,  had  they  ?'  sez  Oi. 
'Yis,  they  had,'  sez  she.  'An'  they  knew  more  in  wan 
minnit  than  the  Magoogins  could  1'arn  in  tin  thousan* 
years,'  sez  she.  'An'  fwhin  did  they  forgit  it?'  sez  Oi. 
'They  nuver  forgot  it,'  sez  she.  'No,'  sez  Oi;  'it  was  so 
ehmall  they  losht  it.'  'Say,  mommy,'  sez  Tammy,  who 
had  jisht  kem  in  to  see  fwhat  th'  row  was  all  about,  'say, 
mommy,'  sez  he,  'they  hocked  it  an'  bought  beer  wud  th' 
boodle.'  Mrs.  McKeyone  pickt  up  the  can  to  throw  it  at  him 
an*  Tammy  sez  to  her,  sez  he:  'Get  out,  ye  owld  shtraw- 
berry-faced  wallintoine;  go  an',  pizen  rattle  shnakes  wud 
yer  shmoile.' 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

"Well,  wud  ye  belaive  it,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  she  let  fly 
th'  can  at  Tammy's  head  an'  broke  a  plashter  parish 
statchoo  av  Bayathrice  day  Chinchinnati  that  Arethoosy 
ped  twinty  cints  fur.  Thin  Arethoosy  flew  at  her  an'  Oi 
saailed  in  mesil',  an'  Tammy  hot  her  a  blyow  av  th'  iroiiiu' 
boord  acrass  th'  back.  Than  am  an  dhiaoul !  but  ye  ought 
to  have  heard  th'  howls  she  let  out  av  her.  Wan  ud  think 
she  was  bein'  murdhered  in  cowld  blood.  Faix  'n'  v/e  got 
shkairt  fwhin  we  heard  her  an'  bundled  her  out  av  doors, 
fwhere  she  got  a  crowd  around  her  an'  kem  near  bein' 
carted  away  to  th'  shtation  house.  Oi  shuppose  now  that's 
th'  lasht  we'll  see  av  Mrs.  Mclveyone ;  an'  it's  a  shmall  loss 
it'll  be  to  iz  fwhether  we  uver  see  her  or  no.  She  has  her- 
sel'  an'  her  book  beer  to  blame  fur  it  all,  fur  divil  a  wan  av 
me  knew  she  was  around  celebratin'  Gambroinus  day  or 
sorra's  tint  Oi'd  have  let  into  th'  house.  Ora,  my,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,  but  book  beer  is  a  terror,  isn't  it;  an'  it  laives 
such  an  awful  headache,  too,  dizn't  it?  Oh,  me  head,  me 
head !  Oi'll  have  to  go  in  an'  pit  it  andher  th'  hoydrant 
agin." 


PUSS  SUNDAY. 

"Isn't  nuxt  Sunda'  Puss  Sunda  ?"  the  Widow  Magoogin 
asked  her  neighbor. 

"Faith  'n'Oi  doon't  know  fwhether  it  is  or  not,"  answered 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"Well,  that's  f  what  we  diz  call  it  in  our  part  av  th'  coun- 
thry,  annyway,"  said  th'  Widow ;  "an'  it  diz  be  a  great  day 
fur  th'  b'ys  an'  gerruls.  It  always  falls  an  the  fusht  Sunda' 
afther  Ash  Winsda,  an'  id's  called  Puss  Sund'y  bekase 
an  that  day  all  th'  gerruls  that  haven't  got  husban's 
have  pusses  an  thim  that  ud  make  a  crass-oyed  cat  laugh. 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  257 

Their  shnouts  ar'  that  long,"  measuring  the  length  of  her 
arm,  "an'  th'  bully-raggin'  an'  foonin'  they  gets  fwhoile  th' 
day  lashts  is  almost  enoof  to  dhroive  thim  crazy.  Th'  b'ys 
goes  about  wud  handsful  av  flour  an'  shlaps  th'  gerls  that 
aren't  marned  an  the  back,  so  that  they'll  be  markt,  an* 
uv'rybody  kin  tell  thim,  an'  th'  gerls  thimselves  are  so 
turribly  mad  that  they  smashes  all  the  pots  an'  kittles  an' 
pans  in  the  house. 

"Puss  Sunda'  breaks  manny  a  poor  gerl's  heart,  an*  it's 
no  wondher  she  hates  th'  soight  av  it.  Fwhat  worse  pras- 
pect  kin  there  be  for  a  poor  craythure  av  a  daycint  gerrul 
that  has  had  eight  or  tin  years'  coortin'  than  to  see  th'  Lint 
sayson  begin,  fur  it  manes  to  her  that  her  chance  has  gone 
by  fur  another  six  months  at  laist.  Lint  is  bad  enoof,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  in  cuttin'  aff  our  mate  an'  cuttin'  down  our 
custhard  poie,  but  fwhin  it  laives  an  imbargo  an  the  say- 
crimint  av  mathrimony,  thin  it  wurruks  a  hardship  upon 
manny  a  noice  little  colleen  that  she  doesn't  foind  it  aisy 
to  withshtand.  Oi'm  shpakin'  now  out  av  th'  depths  av 
me  heart,  me  frind,  an'  Oi'll  bet  me  bottom  dollar,  which 
is  only  fifty  cints,  that  th'  sintimints  Oi  am  uttherin'  are  th' 
sintimints  av  uv'ry  gud-lukin'  young  gerrul  that'll  have  a 
long  puss  an  her  nuxt  Sunda';  an'  troth  an'  there'll  be 
more'n  wan  av  thim,  too,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"There's  very  little  uxshkuse,  though,  fur  a  gerl  to  be 
widout  a  husban'  in  this  counthry,  particularly  aff  she's 
over  twinty-wan,  an  'is  annyway  han'some.  Sure'n  there's 
th'  makin's  av  more  husban's  goin'  to  the  dogs  uv'ry  day 
in  Noo  Yarrick  than  ud  make  uv'ry  gerl  in  Oireland  happy, 
an'  it's  as  aisy  to  get  a  man  to  marry  as  it  is  to  get  a  dog 
to  bark  or  a  naygur  to  shtale.  There's  nawthin'  this  soide 
av  Pat  Clancy's  place  in  th'  other  wurruld,  fwhere  th' 
divil  has  him  roashtin'  on  coals  av  foire,  that's  half  so 
plintiful  in  Ameriky  as  husban's,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an* 


2$S  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

no  well-regulated  gernil  shud  be  widout  wan.  Lint  shud 
have  no  terrors  fur  thim  here;  but  Oi'm  afr^d  it  will 
though,  fur  some  av  thim. 

"Do  ye  know,  me  frind,  that  fwhin  Oi  was  younger  than 
Oi  am  now,  an'  afore  Oi  met  my  Dinny — the  Lord  be  gud 
to  his  mimory  an'  to  his  sowl  alsho — Oi  had  more  young 
min  rinnin'  afther  me  than  ye'd  see  childher  follyin'  a 
band  av  music;  an'  they  war  none  av  yer  riff-raff  naither, 
but  well-to-do  reshpektible  farmers'  sons  that  kud  take  th' 
shoine  in  shtackin'  fwhait  or  cuttin'  turf  out  av  anny  av 
th'  hollow-chester  joods  that  th'  gerls  Oi  see  nowadays  diz 
be  runnin  'around  wud.  Oi  kud  a  had  me  pick  av  air  a 
wan  av  thim — divil  a  wurrud  av  lie  Oi'm  tellin'  ye,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  an'  ye  may  belaive  me  or  not,  jisht  as  ye 
loike,  but  Oi  was  conshidered  th'  foinest  gerl  in  th'  village 
an*  there  wasn't  a  naiter  dancer  or  a  shwaiter  singer  to  be 
found  in  a  tin-days'  walk.  Begorries  they  war  all  afther 
me,  an'  it's  a  dozen  husban's  inshtud  av  wan  Oi  kud  have 
had  aff  Oi'd  wanted  thim  fwhin  Oi  tuk  Dinny.  There  was 
no  Puss  Sunda'  fur  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  Oi  hope 
there'll  be  none  for  anny  young  gerrul  that  desarves  to  be 
betther  off  than  she  is." 

"How  about  yer  daughther  Arethoosa?"  inquired  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty. 

"Oh,  bad  dang  to  her,"  said  the  Widow;  "Arethoosy, 
Oi'm  afraid,  '11  nuver  be  worth  a  day's  gud  as  long  as  she 
has  th'  hoigh-chuned  notions  she  has'  an'  fwhoile  she  hangs 
an  to  that  little  Ditch  midget  av  a  beau  av  hers.  She's  in- 
j'yin*  hersel'  greatly  fur  the  prisint,  givin'  parties  an* 
cuttin  up  s'sci'ty  doidoes  wud  th'  other  youngsthers  from 
th'  tobacky  facthory,  but  wait  till  wan  av  these  foine 
evenin's  fwhin  little  Ditch  Hinnery  '11  bid  her  'Taw-taw* 
fur  th'  lasht  toime,  an'  she'll  have  to  be  an  th'  lukeout  fur 
somebody  else,  then  ye'll  see  a  long  puss  an  her,  an  uv'ry 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  259 

day'll  be  Puss  Sunda'  fur  her  boimeby,  maybe;  an'  that  it 
may !  fur  then  it'll  taich  her  a  lesson  that  she'll  be  all  th' 
betther  fur  1'arnin." 


CHRISTMAS  PEEPARATIONS. 

"Did  Jay  Gould  laive  ye  annythin',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 

"Divil  blasht  th'  thing,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Nur  me  nayther,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"But  mooch  as  he  had,  he  had  to  laive  id  all  behoind  him 
annyways,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Thrue  fur  ye,  woman,  thrue  fur  ye/'  said  the  Widow, 
shaking  her  head  "He  nuver  sed  a  sensibler  wurrud,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  than  fwhin  he  sed  that  he  brought  nothin' 
wud  him  into  th'  wurruld  an'  he'd  take  nothin'  out  av  id 
wud  him  fwhin  he  left  id.  God  be  gud  to  his  sowl,  an* 
may  id  pass  through  peggathory  wudout  burn  ur  harrum 
loike  a  brishk  fwhishk  av  wind  through  a  Tinth 
Av'noo  tinimint,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  He  was  a  great  man 
an'  gud  to  his  own  and  there's  manny  av  thim  that's  flingin' 
mane  insiniations  at  his  corpse  that  id  be  willin'  to  have 
his  repytation — oye,  an'  a  blacker  repytation,  too — aff  they 
only  had  his  dusht,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Bad  sesht  to  iz, 
annyhow,  fur  human  bayin's,  bud  id  makes  a  great  deff- 
rince  in  the  way  we  luk  at  wealth  an'  shtoyle  an'  fashion. 
Aff  we're  in  id  an'  have  th'  shpondulix  we  think  id's  all 
roight,  but  aff  we  haven't  a  tin-cint  piece  to  bless  oursel's 
wud  we  regarrud  thim  that  roides  in  their  carriages  as 
criminals  an'  Arnicists,  an'  we  luk  upon  uv'ry  rich  man 
an'  woman  as  an  inimy  an'  offinder  agin  th'  Constootion  an* 
by-laws  av  th'  Noo-Noited  Shtates,  Mrs. 


260  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

"Throth  V  id's  mesel'  id  give  a  gud  manny  dollars  to 
be  rich,  me  frind;  divil  a  ha'p'orth  Oi'd  care  fwhat  anny- 
body  sed  ur  thought  av  me,  ayther.  But  fwhishper,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty !  Didn't  ye  know  Oi'd  rich  cousins  up  in 
Westchishter  abow — the  Connellys?  Yis,  Oi  have;  they 
owns  a  coal  yarrud  an'  Mrs.  Connelly  has  all  a  mosht  a 
thousan'  dollars  in  bank.  D'ye  moind  that,  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty?  Well,  Oi'm  knittin'  owld  man  Connelly  a  pair  av 
socks  for  Chrish'mus  an'  Oi'll  give  Mrs.  Connelly  a  red 
leather  pockit  buke  an'  id's  th'  very  laisht  they  kin  do  in 
return  is  to  sind  me  daughther  Toozy  th'  makin's  av  a  silk 
Impoire  dhress  an'  meseP  a  sailkshkin  cape  to  wear  an 
me  showldhers  fwhin  Oi'm  goin'  to  choorch  av  Sunda' 
mawrnin's.  Fwhat's  that  ye  say  ?  Id's  puttin'  up  a  job  an 
thim,  is  id?  No,  ma'am;  id's  no  such  thing — a  fair  ux- 
change  is  no  robbery,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty — and  fwhin  Oi 
give  them  a  pair  av  hand-knit  socks,  a  pocket  buke  that'll 
cosht  me  uv'ry  bit  av  twinty-foive  cints,  an'  Oi  show  thim 
that  Oi  remember  thim  at  Chrish'mus,  as  cousins  shud,  Oi 
think  id's  no  more  nor  roight  an'  'annist  that  they  shud 
give  me  somethin'  in'  return,  an'  a  sailshkin  cape  is  th' 
very  thing  Oi  want  to  keep  out  th'  cowld,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty. 

"Put  up  job,  indade !  Sure  an'  isn'd  id  fwhat  uv'rybody 
diz  at  Chrish'mus  toime — gives  somethin'  an'  uxpects  to 
get  tin  toimes  th'  value  av  id  boick?  Fwhat  was  Chrish' 
mus  med  fur,  annyway,  an*  it  wasn't  to  do  somebody  gud, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  An'  do  ye  think  Oi''cl  lave  Santy  Claws 
ur  anny  other  Claws,  get  th'  besht  av  me  in  Chrish'mus 
gifts  ?  Not  mooch,  Honora !  Oi'd  not  be  nacheril  aff  Oi 
did,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"An*  fwhat  ar'  ye  goin'  to  give  Jurry,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty  ?"  she  asked. 

"Sorra  th'  wan  av  me  knows,-  Mrs.  Magoogin.     Oi  was 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  26l 

knittin'  him  a  pair  av  shtockins,  but  he  broke  me  all  up 
be  sayin'  he  wanted  a  shmokin'  jackit  an'  wan  av  thim  red 
hats  loike  the  Turks  over  an  Greenwich  Shtreet  wears,  d'ye 
moind  ?"  ? 

"Oh,  th'  min  ar'  th'  divils,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  th' 
Widow,  with  a  wicked  smile.  "They  always  wants  some- 
thin'  crazy  an'  nonsinsickle  an'  aff  id  wasn't  fur  sinsible 
wimmin  loike  yersel'  an'  mesel'  they'd  be  thricked  out  loike 
raoonkeys  an'  id  be  th'  laughin'  shtocks  av  all  th'  wurruld, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Th'  oidaya  av  yer  Jurry  wantin'  a 
ehmokin'  jacket  an'  a  Turk's  hat.  He'd  be  out  av  soight 
in  thim,  as  my  b'y  Tammy  id  say.  Shure'n  there'd  be  more 
fun  in  his  dudheen  fur  him  to  sit  out  an  th'  dure  shtep  in 
his  blyue  shurrut  an'  do  his  puffin'  comfurtible-loike  there. 
But  talkin'  about  Tammy,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  d'ye  know 
fwhat  that  consaited  little  son  av  a  say  cuke  av  moine  wants 
fur  his  Chrish'mus  prisint  ?  Nothin'  short  av  a  Mclntoyre 
coat,  moind  ye!  A  Mclntoyre  coat  to  come  down  to  his 
heels  an*  wid  a  cape  an  id  loike  th'  b'ys  at  Ballyporeen 
ushed  to  wear  in  th'  owld  dart.  'An'  fwhat  d'ye  want  id 
fur,  Tammy  ?'  sez  Oi.  'To  wear  id  fwhin  it  rains,'  sez  he. 
'An'  to  lave  id  hangin'  an  th'  peg  all  th'  resht  av  th'  year  is 
id,  Tammy,  agrah?'  sez  Oi.  'Oh,  no,'  sez  he;  'Oi'll  wear  id 
all  th'  toime.'  'An'  make  a  Broadway  jood  out  av  yersel'  ?' 
BCZ  Oi.  'Yis,'  sez  he.  'D'ye  know,  mudder,'  sez  he — he 
always  calls  me  mudder,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  bekase  he  can't 
shpake  plain — 'd'ye  know,  mudder,'  sez  he,  'Oi'm  goin'  in 
fur  shtoyle,'  sez  he.  'Aff  ye  doon't  do  as  uv'rybody  else  diz 
in  this  wurruld  ye're  loike  th'  man  that  fell  out  av  th'* 
balloon — ye're  not  in  id,'  sez  he.  'An'  fwhat  gud  '11  id  do 
ye  to  be  in  shtoyle,  Tammy,  mavourneen  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Thin 
th'  coppers  won't  chase  ye  fwhin  ye  shtand  an  th*  corner/ 
sez  he.  'Ah-ha !  Oi  see,'  sez  Oi  to  mesel'.  'Tammy  wants 
a  Mclntoyre  th'  way  he'll  be  a  reg'lar  out-an'-out  bum  an* 


262  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

go  shmashin'  the  gerruls  an'  mebbe  runnin'  away  wid  some 
coochman's  daughther,'  sez  Oi,  'but,  nuver  fear,  he'll  get 
no  Mclntoyle  fram  me,  Chrish'mus  ur  no  Chrish'mus,'  sez 
Oi.  An'  Oi'll  keep  me  wurrud,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !  Or  11 
nuver  consint  to  seein'  a  b'y  av  moine  make  a  fool  out  av 
himsel'  wid  wan  av  thim  cape  coats.  Oi'd  sooner  see  him  in 
Sing-Song  abow  wid  th'  Shtars  an'  Shtroipes  upon  him. 
Oi'll  give  him  a  noice  fwhoite  shurrut  an'  red  nicktoie,  an' 
aff  he's  not  satisfied  wid  that  he  kin  fwhishtle  up  th'  chim 
ney  an'  see  aff  Sandy  Claws  '11  sind  him  a  Mclntoyre,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty." 


CHRISTMAS  PRESENTS. 

"Say,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 

The  Irish  Widow  was  at  the  dividing  fence  looking  over 
into  her  neighbor's  back  yard. 

"Say,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !"  she  cried  again. 

This  brought  the  neighbor  out  of  the  house. 

"Do  you  know,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that  Chrish'mus  is  a 
terrible  toime  av  year  for  me  ?"  the  Widow  asked. 

"No/'  the  neighbor  replied. 

"Well,"  said  Mrs.  Magoogin,  "that's  fwhat  it  is,  an* 
doon't  you  laive  me  forget  it,  aither.  Sure  an'  here  Oi 
am  a  poor  lone  widdy  wid  two  big  choonks  av  a  b'y  an'  a 
gerrul  an  me  hands  that  ought  to  be  able  to  be  afther  givin' 
me  plinty  av  prisints,  an'  fwhat  does  they  do  but  come  to 
me  loike  a  pair  av  beggars  axin'  me  fur  all  Oi've  got,  an' 
more,  too,  be  th'  same  token,  an'  divil  recaive  th'  wan  sali- 
tary  thing — not  so  mooch  as  ud  wet  yer  lips  or  break  yer 
heart,  does  aither  av  the  bla-guards  give  me.  'Fwhat  are  ye 
goin'  to  give  me,  Arethoosy?'  Oi  sez  to  her  th'  other  day, 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  263 

sez  Oi.  'A  shtand  off/  sez  she.  'An'  fwhat's  thats'  sez  Oi. 
'Doon't  you  know  what's  a  shtand  off?'  sez  she.  'Divil  a 
wan  av  me  knows/  sez  Oi,  'anless  it's  somethin'  loike  a 
buke-kase  or  a  jardannyaire/  sez  Oi.  'Well,  it  ain't  naythin' 
av  th  'koind/  sez  she.  'Thin,  fur  Heavin's  sake,  fwhat  is 
it  ?'  sez  Oi.  'It's  a  shtiff/  sez  she.  'A  shtiff/  sez  Oi  to  her. 
'Yis/  sez  she,  'a  shtiff/  sez  she,  'an'  aff  ye  doon't  know/ 
eez  she,  'fwhat  that  is  allow  me  to  inloightin  ye/  sez  she, 
*be  tellin'  ye  that  it  manes  that  ye  get  left  this  Chrish'mus, 
mimmaw/  sez  she,  wid  a  whurl  av  her  toes  that  ud  have 
med  Nailson  or  Patti  sick.  'So  that's  it?'  sez  Oi.  'Well, 
me  foine  leady/  sez  Oi,  'ye'll  give  me  no  shtiff  or  shtand 
aff  aither,'  sez  Oi,  so  divil  a  Chrish'mus  gift  Oi  gev  her  but  a 
dhress  an'  hat  an'  shoes,  fwhich  ar'  things  she  was  abso 
lutely  in  need  av,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"Me  son,  Tammy  the  Toof,  that  hasn't  done  a  shtroke 
av  wurruk  now  in  th'  pasht  tin  waiks,  fwhat  does  that 
little  jackeen  do  but  thry  to  give  me  another  shtand  aff, 
an'  Oi  thraited  him  in  purty  mooch  th'  same  way  as  Oi 
thraited  his  sisther.  Bethune  the  pair  they  got  their  $40 
worth  out  av  me,  but  divil  a  cint  more.  An'  fwhat  did  Oi 
get?  Nawthin'.  Divil  as  mooch  as  the  bloind  av  yer 
oye,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  faix  'n'  though  Oi  sez  it  meseF, 
me  f rind,  there's  no  wan  that  has  anny  sorer  naid  av  it  than 
mesel'.  But  it's  always  th'  way,  Oi've  noticet.  Th'  worse 
aff  ye  are  at  Chrish'mus  toime  th'  less  ye  get.  Luk  at  th' 
poor ;  they  get  nawthin',  loike  mesel' ;  but  the  big  bugs  that 
has  lashin's  an'  laivins  av  uv'rythin',  they're  fairly  peltid 
wid  prisints,  f  whoile  those  that  wants  thim  worse  ar'  takin* 
no  notice  av  at  all,  at  all.  Oi  wish  Oi  was  rich,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,  thin  mebbe  Santa  Claws  ud  be  gud  to  me;  but 
as  it  is  now,  bad  luk  to  him,  Oi'm  afraid  the  gray-fwhis- 
kered  owld  divil  will  nuver  foind  out  me  addhress  or  1'arn 
that  Oi'm  annywhere  in  th'  land  av  th'  livin'." 


264  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

"Oh,  but  Oi  almosht  forgot  to  tell  ye,  me  frind,  Oi  got  a 
foine  new  mannishkewer  set  to  clane  th'  teeth  an'  nails1 
wid  fram  Mrs.  McGowin  an'  a  box  av  canned  paiches  fram 
th'  Ditch  groc'ryman  an  th'  cawrner  belyow,  bad  look  to 
him  fur  his  mainness,  an' — an'  Oi  guess  that's  all,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty.  It's  th'  fusht  toime  in  me  loife  Oi  uver  got  a 
mannishkewer  set,  an'  upon  me  wurrud  Oi  doon't  know 
very  well  fwhat  to  do  wid  id.  Oi  ushed  to  boite  aff  me  nails 
an'  they  ushed  to  kape  themsel's  clane,  so  they  did,  Oi 
done  so  mooch  washin'  an'  shcrubbin',  wid  me  hands  always 
in  th'  hot  wather,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty ;  an'  now,  to  till  you  th' 
thruth,  though  th'  set  is  all  pure  oiv'ry,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
an'  cosht  as  hoigh  as  thurty  cints,  Oi'd  sooner  have  th' 
money.  Toozy  axed  me  to  give  id  to  her,  but  throth'n' 
Oi'll  do  no  such  thing.  Oi'll  sell  id  to  her,  but  Oi'll  give 
nothin'  away  to  nobody  that's  gev  to  me  at  Chrish'mus 
toime,  wud  you,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 


SHE  GIVES  MES.  M'GLAGGEETY  A  PRESENT. 

"Sence  Oi've  bin  in  s'soi'ty,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,''  said  the 
Widow  Magoogin,  who  was  entertaining  in  her  sumptuous 
sitting-room  her  former  neighbor  on  Cherry  Hill ;  "nobody 
knows  th'  worry  an'  ixcoitemint  Oi  haves  to  go  t'ro'.  Fwhat 
wud  dhressin'  an'  doinin'  an'  goin'  to  parties  an'  takin'  bat'3 
an'  shkurtin'  cologny  wather  all  over  mesel'  Oi  have  more 
to  do  than  Oi  had  fwhin  Oi  was  so  poor  that  Oi  didn't  knoo 
fwhere  th'  nuxt  bucket  av  beer  was  comin'  fram,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty." 

"An'  how  often  do  ye  take  the  bat'  ye're  afther  talkin' 
about,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?"  the  neighbor  asked. 

"UVry  day,"  was  the  answer. 

"TJv'ry  day !     Fwhy  Oi  doon't  taake  wan  only  uv'ry 


WIDOW    MAGOOGIN.  265 

month,"  said  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  with  a  great  deal  of  sur 
prise  in  the  exclamation. 

"An'  no  more  did  Oi,"  said  the  Widow,  "afore  Oi  wint 
into  s'soi'ty.  A  bat'  a  month  is  enoof  fur  anny  person 
that's  raisonably  clain,  an'  it's  manny's  the  wan  Oi  ushed 
to  know  an  the  Hill  belyow  that  wudn't  take  a  bat'  wanst  in 
a  year  anless  they  happint  to  get  cot  out  in  th'  rain,  an* 
faix  they  tuk  moighty  gud  care  that  they  warn't,  too.  But 
here  Oi  am  bat'tin'  mesel'  uv'ry  day  an'  scintin'  meseF  wud 
wather  av  rosies  an'  Pittsburgh  exshtracts  of  cologne  antil 
Oi'm  shmellin'  tin  toimes  wurser  nor  an  Aygyptian 
niummy." 

"How  manny  dhresses  have  ye  now,  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 
the  neighbor  inquired,  rather  slyly. 

"Divil  a  wan  av  me  knoos,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Toozy 
haves  a  modhisty  up  here  uv'ry  day  a'mosht,  takin'  me 
measure  an'  piimin'  all  koinds  av  shtoof  an  me  showldhers 
an*  shkurts  thryin'  to  foind  fwhat'll  shoot  me  complexion, 
fur  it  isn't  all  koinds  av  colors  an'  desoigns  that  har 
monizes  wud  me  freckles  an'  Ellen  Turry  hair.  Do  ye 
know,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that  that's  th'  great  throuble 
wud  me — at  laist  me  daughther  Toozy  sezs  so — to  make  a 
dhress  fur  me  that  woon'"t  antaggynoize  me  oyes  an'  hair, 
but  soort  av  koind  av  blind  wid  thim,  as  it  were.  She's 
throied  uver  so  hard  to  harmonize  all  th'  iliments,  she  sez, 
an'  sometoimes  she  come  purty  near  doin'  id,  but  she 
doon't,  an'  there  ye  ar',  th'  dhress  is  shp'ilt  an'  up  comes 
th'  modhisty  an'  throies  another  fwhack  at  id.  She's 
makin'  me  a  dhress  now  wud  paycock  blyue  thrimmins,  an' 
shirs  an'  pompydoors  that  they  say'll  knock  th'  oye  out  av 
Mat'son  Av'noo  s'soi'ty,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oh,  but  it'll 
be  a  rail  byooty.  Oi  wish  ye  kud  see  it,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
Oi'm  goin'  to  wear  it  to  th'  Delmoniky  ball.  But  talkin' 
av  dhresses,  me  frind,  Oi'm  thinkin'  Oi'll  have  to  be  af ther 


266  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

givfn'  ye  wan  av  thim  fur  a  Chrish'mus  geft.  How  wad  ye 
loike  an  olive-green  thrimmed  wud  oiridiscint  baids  an' 
Bhplit  down  th'  boick  allamosht  to  th'  waishtband  ?  Yis,  a 
reg'lar  dollyket  av  th'  fusht  wather.  But  fwhat'm  Oi 
talkin  'about  at  all,  at  all,  to  be  off  rin'  ye  a  dollyket  dhress 
f  whin  ye  kin  nuver  go  into  s'soi'ty  anless  yer  Jurry  happins 
to  foind  a  goold  moine  fwhoile  he's  diggin'  an  th'  aquay- 
duck,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Fwhy,  av  coorse  ye  doon't  want 
anny  dollyket  in  yer  prisint  sarkimshtances,  me  f  rind ;  but 
coome  up  shtairs  into  me  budwar,  as  th'  shpoider  sed  to 
th'  floy,  an'  Oi'll  gev  ye  yer  pick  av  anny  av  th'  dhresses  in 
th'  bureau  dhrawers." 

"Oh,  but  ain't  that  noice,"  said  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  as 
the  two  ladies  went  up  stairs.  "How  kin  Oi  uver  thank  ye." 

"Tut,  tut,  tut!"  the  Widow  responded,  with  a  queenly 
wave  of  her  large  red  hand.  "Doon't  mintion  id." 


NO  MORE  NEW  YEAR'S  CALLERS. 

"Oi  say,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Fwhat  is  id,  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 

"Do  ye  know  the  noo  rackit  fur  Noo  Year's  ?" 

"Faix  'n'  Oi  doon't." 

"Thin,  fwhishper,  an'  Oi'll  tell  ye,"  said  the  Widow. 
"This  mawrnin'  bright  an'  airly  Oi  resaived  a  poshthole 
card  from  th'  edithur  av  a  noospaper  axin'  me  to  sind  him 
me  pinnygin  av  kaipin'  opint  house  an  Noo  Year's  Day. 
Oi  was  nuver  more  supproised  in  all  me  loife  afore,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  an'  Oi  sint  th'  edithur  wurrud  so,  be  Tammy, 
so  Oi  did.  Fwhat  diffrence  diz  id  make  to  annybody 
fwhether  a  lone  widdy  loike  mesel'  wants  to  kape  her  house 
opint  an  Noo  Year's  Day  ur  no.  Sure  'n  id  don't  make 
no  diffrence  wud  me  daughter,  Toozy,  Oi  know,  an'  aff  me 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  267 

own  pinnygin  has  no  weight  in  me  own  shebang  fwhat's 
the  use  av  peddlin'  id  around  in  the  colyums  av  the  noos- 
papers,  fwhere  nobody  '11  see  id  that  cares  a  ha'p'orth 
fur  id. 

"Bad  sesht  to  me  luck,  but  didn't  Oi  express  me  pinnigin 
very  forcibly  to  Toozy  lasht  Noo  Year,  fwhin  Oi  up  an* 
towld  in  front  av  the  McGouns  an'  thim  shtuck-up  freights 
the  O'Flannerys  that  Oi  didn't  take  no  shtock  in  bringin' 
the  b'ys  sivin  moiles  in  th  cowld,  many  av  thim  wid  no 
overcoats  an  thim,  an'  givin'  thim  nothin'  but  limmynade 
an'  jilly  cake  to  appaise  their  thurst  an'  hunger  wid. 

"  'Fwhy  doon't  ye  have  a  drap  av  th'  rail  owld  shtuff 
an  th'  parlor  table  fur  thim?'  sez  Oi.  'Oh,  mimmaw!' 
sez  Toozy,  'oh,  no ;  intosticatin'  dhrinks  is  out  av  the  kus- 
tion,'  sez  she,  'bekase  they're  all  out  av  shtoyle,'  sez  she. 
'Is  that  so  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Yis  id  is/  sez  she.  'Well,  thin,  divil 
th'  opin  house  Oi'll  kape  opint  an  Noo  Year's  Day,'  sez  Oi, 
'fur  Oi'll  bring  nobody  here  an'  insult  thim  be  offerin'  thim 
limmynade  an'  oice  wather,'  sez  Oi.  Thin  we  had  id  up 
an'  down,  an'  Toozy  she  croid  an'  pow-wowed  antil  Oi 
towld  her  Oi'd  say  nayther  aye,  yes,  or  no,  but  she  kud  do 
as  she  plaised  in  the  matther.  So  Toozy  kep'  opin  house, 
an'  who  in  th'  divil  shud  blyow  in  about  half  past  tin 
o'clock  in  the  mawrnin'  but  big  Tim  Eafferty,  the  con- 
thractor's  son,  an'  f what  diz  he  do  but  refuse  th'  limmynade 
an'  set  up  th'  awfulest  koind  av  a  yowl  fur  egg-nogg. 
'Sure  an'  we  have  no  egg-nogg,  Timmy  dear,'  sez  Oi. 
'Then  fwhere's  yer  poort  woine?'  sez  he.  'We  haven't 
poort  woine,  naither,'  sez  Oi.  'Thin  gimme  beer/  sez  he, 
call  in'  out  as  bravely  fur  id  as  aft  he  war  in  Micky  Ma- 
loney's  barroom.  'Sorra  th'  tint  av  beer  in  the  house, 
Timmy  avourneen,'  sez  Oi,  fwhin — ow !  wow ! — he  up  wud 
his  fut  an'  kickt  the  limmyriade  an'  the  taypot  an'  the 
pound  cake  an'  the  toomblers  up  agin'  the  sailing  wud  wan 


268  WIDOW   MAGOOGTN. 

lift  av  his  fut.  'See  here,  me  lad/  sez  Oi,  'aff  that's  fwhat 
ye're  up  to  let  me  give  ye  a  taste  av  yer  own  medicine/ 
sez  Oi,  an  Oi  riz  the  poker  an'  put  a  cut  an  his  forrid  that 
he'll  nuver  furget. 

"They  carried  him  away  insinsible  an'  we  shut  up  the 
house  an*  had  no  more  callin'  that  day.  'There's  fur  ye/ 
eez  Oi  to  Toozy.  'Oi  towld  ye  fwhat  ye'd  get,  an'  aff  ye'd 
oonly  takin  my  advoice  an'  had  a  drap  av  the  hard  shtulf 
in  th'  house  me  tumblers  an'  me  taypot  id  be  all  roight, 
an'  Timmy  'd  not  have  the  cut  in  his  poll  that  he's  got/ 
sez  Oi.  But  sure,  an'  woman  aloive,  fwhat  gud  did  id  do 
fur  her  to  have  such  a  lessin?  She's  goin'  to  kape  opin  house 
agin  nuxt  Choosda',  an'  God  help  her  little  sinse — she'll 
have  limmynade  an'  tay  agin.  But  we'll  fix  her.  Tam 
my's  goin'  to  pit  a  shmallpox  soign  an  the  dure,  an'  Oi'm 
goin'  to  tell  payple  Oi'm  dead,  an'  bechuxt  th'  two  av  iz 
Oi  hope  to  have  moighty  few  callers  at  the  Magoogin 
mansion  an  Noo  Year's." 


NEW  YEAR'S  AND  EGG  NOG. 

"Happy  Noo  Year's,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 
"Th'  same  to  you  an'  nianny  av  thim,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 
"Thank  ye,  ma'am,  an'  wud  ye  moind  comin'  over  af  ther 
a  fwhoile  an'  we'll  have  a  noggin'  av  egg  nag  over  id,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty?" 

"Oi'm  afeerd  id  '11  go  to  me  head,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 
"Faix  'n'  that  id  will,  Oi'll  assure  ye,  me  frind,"  said 
the  widow,  smiling.  "But  afore  id  goes  to  yer  head  id  '11 
inter  yer  sthummick,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  id  '11  make  ye 
feel  loike  a  foightin'  cock.  There's  nawthin'  that  aquils 
egg  nag  fur  gettin'  there  at  this  toime  av  year.  Upon  me 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  269 

wurrud,  do  ye  know,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that  Christmas 
an'  Noo  Year's  wudn't  luk  loike  themselves  at  all,  at  all,  aft' 
there  was  no  egg  nag  to  wash  down  th'  compliments  av  the 
saison  wud.  Id's  th'  only  toime  av  th'  year  that  Oi  go 
boick  on  the  gud  owld  lager,  fur  talk  as  ye  may  av  yer 
seltzer  wather,  an'  Boolgareen  wather,  an'  champagny 
wather,  there's  none  av  thim  that  laves  the  swately  soothin' 
an'  stintimintal  infloo'nce  av  a  can  av  lager.  But  egg 
nag's  th'  thing  fur  Noo  Year's.  It  raiches  th'  shpot  quick 
ly,  an'  haits  th'  blud,  an'  gives  wan  a  j'yful  jag  to  go 
t'rough  th'  day  wud.  We  always  had  a  pitcher  av  id  an 
th'  table  fwhin  id  ushed  to  be  th'  prapper  caper  to  kape 
opin  house  an  Noo  Year's.  But  the  bong  tongs  dish- 
con  tinood  th'  cushtim,  and  as  me  frind,  President  Clave- 
lan'  id  say,  id's  a  knock-kneed  dish  av  beef  shttew  wud 
all  av  iz  now,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"Me  daughter  Toozy  wanted  to  kape  open  house  this 
year  so  that  she  kud  have  her  Clar-r-rince,  th'  futball 
play'r,  come  in  an  me  an'  ate  an'  dhrink  me  out  av  house 
an'  home;  but  Oi'm  gettin'  an  to  that  young  feller  now, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  he  won't  give  me  no  scoyintific 
shkewgee,  as  he  calls  id,  not  aff  Mrs.  Burdie  Magoogin, 
Usquire,  knows  herself,  an'  be  th'  hokies  she  thinks  she 
do,  me  frind.  Oi'm  an  to  him  bigger  nor  a  floy  an  a 
mishketty's  tail,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  Oi've  bin  an  to 
him  uver  since  he  took  Toozy's  nicktoie  and  'shpinders 
an'  gev  her  no  Christmas  gift  in  return.  He's  a  shtiff  an'  a 
great  millinyaire's  son,  Oi  don't  think,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty.  Fwhy,  fwhin  Toozy  axt  him  to  cum  down  fram 
Noo  Havin  to  take  her  to  hear  the  Thrinity  choimes 
belyow,  sure  an'  didn't  he  tell  her  to  throw  rocks  at  her- 
silf  an'  ushcuse  him,  as  his  mummaw  wudn't  laive  him 
be  out  afther  noine  o'clock.  Oh,  he's  a  rale  bute,  Clar-r-r- 
rince  is,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  I  hope  that  Oi  may  nuver 


2/0  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

see  th'  boick  av  me  nick  aff  Oi  don't  tell  him  so  th'  nuxt 
toime  Oi  meet  him,  me  frind. 

"But  talkin'  av  the  choimes,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  fwhat 
nonsinse  to  dhrame  that  th'  horns  kin  be  shtopt.  There 
nmsht  be  nise  to  wake  th'  N"oo  Year  up,  an'  fwhat  is  a 
New  Year  jag  widout  id's  nise?  Fwhy  id  id  take  a  mer- 
racle  to  shtop  thim  horns.  An'  ye  know  fwhat  a  diffikilt 
thing  a  merracle  is.  Do  ye  remimber  th'  shtory  av  Paddy 
Doogan  an'  th'  praist?  Paddy  didn't  know  fwhat  a  mer 
racle  was,  so  he  wint  to  th'  praist  to  foint  out.  'So  ye 
want  to  know  fwhat  a  merracle  is,  Pat?'  said  th'  praist. 
*Yis,  father,'  sez  Paddy.  'Well,  thin,  turn  around,'  sez 
the  praist.  An'  Paddy  turned  round  an'  th'  praist  gave 
him  a  kick  an  th'  shpot  that  he  always  sot  down  on,  an' 
id  was  a  tumble  harrud  kick,  too,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
'Did  ye  feel  that,  Pat?'  sez  the  praist,  afther  kickin'  him. 
'Yis,  indade,  Oi  did,  father,'  sez  Paddy.  'Well,  aff  ye 
didn't  id  wud  have  bin  a  merracle,'  sez  th'  praist,  an'  that's 
how  Paddy  Doogan  found  out  fwhat  a  merracle  was,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty." 


THE  FASHIONS. 


THE    FASHIONS. 


NO  HEALTH  PANTS  FOR  HE3. 

"Some  payple  ar'  very  ignororious,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Faix  'n  Oi  belave  ye,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"D'ye  know  fwhat  th'  Ditchwoman  acrass  th'  way  be- 
yant  sint  over  to  ax  me  this  mawrnin',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 

"How  should  Oi  know,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"How  shud  -ye,  thet's  so,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the 
Widow,  apologetically.  "Well,  fwhisper  an  Oi'll  tell  ye, 
mavourneen.  That  Ditchwoman  had  the  Mongolian  gall 
to  knock  at  my  kitchen  dure  this  mawrnin'  an'  ax  me  aff 
Oi  had  more  goat's  eggs  fur  Aisther  than  Oi  kud  ushe, 
an'  wud  Oi  sell  her  a  dizen  or  two.  'An'  sure  an'  fwhere 
wud  Oi  get  goat's  eggs,  woman  aloive  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Haven't  ye 
a  goat?'  sez  she.  'Yis,'  sez  Oi,  'but  he's  a  Billy  goat, 
ma'am,'  sez  Oi.  'An'  don't  he  lay  no  Aisther  eggs?'  sez 
she.  'Not  this  Billy,'  sez  Oi.  'He  got  dishgusted  fwhen 
he  hurd  thet  they  med  eggs  be  machinery  over  in  Noo 
Jursey  beyant,'  sez  Oi,  'an'  he  hasn't  laid  air  an  egg  uver 
since,  bad  scran  to  him,'  sez  Oi.  She  felt  very  sarry  an* 
ushcused  herself,  an'  sed  she'd  buy  some  hin's  eggs  at  th' 
grocery's  an'  make  thim  do  as  well.  Oi  axed  her  who 
towlt  her  my  Billy  laid  eggs,  an'  Oi  thought  Oi'd  busht 
me  soides  laughin'  fwhin  she  towlt  me  that  id  was  my 

[273] 


2/4  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

Tammy.  That  b'y  is  the  very  divil.  Upon  my  sowl,  Oi 
think  he'll  be  afther  hudwinkin'  St.  Pether  an'  stailin' 
his  way  into  Heaven  fwhin  he  kicks  th'  boocket,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty. 

"But  did  ye  uver  see  sooch  ignoriassity,  me  frind,  as  a 
Ditchwoman  axin'  fur  Billy  goat's  Aisther  eggs?  Be- 
gorry,  id  baits  Banagher  an'  Banagher  baits  th'  divil,  so 
they  say,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  But  that's  not  fwhat  Oi 
ehtarted  out  to  tell  ye,  me  frind.  Oi  shtarted  to  tell  ye 
that  Oi  wint  to  th'  play  at  th'  Loysayum  Thayater  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  an'  saw  thim  three  gerruls  in  th'  play  that 
wears  pants.  Toozy  wint  wid  me,  an'  now  she's  crazy  to 
see  th'  toime  cum  fwhin  she  kin  have  a  pair  av  pants  loike 
thim  fur  hersel'.  Oh,  she's  parfaickly  woild  to  wear  pants, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Bad  sesht  to  me,  but  Oi'm  afther 
thinkin'  that  Tammy  '11  have  to  lock  his  up  at  noight  fwhin 
he  goes  to  bed,  or  Toozy  '11  get  howlt  av  thim  an'  be  wearin' 
thim  upon  th'  Bow'ry  abow.  But  Tammy's  pants  is  deff- 
rint  from  th'  pants  in  th'  Loysayum  play.  Thim  ack- 
toriess's  pants  don't  raich  belyow  th'  knee  an'  id  takes  a 
gerrul  wid  a  purty  leg  to  ware  thim.  Toozy  id  be  a  soight 
in  thim  wid  her  broomshticks.  Oi  towld  her  ivirybod} 
id  laugh  at  her,  but  she  sed  she  didn't  care.  'They're 
hoigh  chooned  garmints,  mimmaw,'  sez  she.  'An  you 
ought  to  wear  thim,  too,'  sez  she  to  me,  sez  she.  'Divil 
take  ye,'  sez  Oi.  'Oi'd  not  be  found  dead  in  thim  fur  tin 
thousan'  hundhert  dollars,'  sez  Oi.  'Oh,  they're  very  hoigh 
clinical,  mimmaw,'  sez  she  again,  sez  she.  'An'  fwhat  diz 
their  hoigh  clinical  bizness  main,  me  darlint?'  sez  Oi. 
'Id  mains  that  they're  healthy,  mimmaw,'  sez  she.  'Ye'll 
live  longer  wid  thim  an  than  ye  will  wid  thim  aff,'  sez  she. 
'Oh,  ye  will,  will  ye/  sez  Oi.  'Yis,  mimmaw,'  sez  she. 
'Thin  id's  danged  funny  thet  yer  father  who  was  a  foine 
healthy  spaycimint  av  a  man,'  sez  Oi,  'an'  thet  wore  as  gud 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  2/5 

a  pair  av  pants  as  any  longshoreman  in  th'  Foort  Ward/ 
sez  Oi,  'is  lyin'  these  many  years  over  in  Calvary  Ceme- 
thery  beyant,'  sez  Oi,  'an'  me  that  nuver  wore  pants,  an* 
wid  the  help  av  God  that  nuver  will,  is  here  now  aloive 
an'  kickin'.  Pit  that  in  yer  cubib  cigareets  an'  shmoke 
id,  me  daughter/  sez  Oi. 

"Begorry,  Oi  had  her  there,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  But 
Toozy's  consait  howlds  out  an'  she's  shtill  pants-struck, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 


SHE  TRIMS  THE  GOAT'S  WHISKERS. 

"Bad  dang  to  the  thing  they  calls  shtoyle,  anyways,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty  I" 

"Fwhy,  f what's  ailin'  ye  now,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 
"Oh,  nawthin',  only  Oi  had  to  thrim  me  goat's  fwhiskera 
a  la  polly-boo-bongzay-mounseer,  as  they  say  in  the 
Frinch,"  the  Widow  remarked,  half  regretfully.  "Fwhisp- 
per,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  Oi'll  tell  ye  all  about  it.  The 
Malowneys  beyant  closed  up  their  shanty  two  waiks  ago 
an'  wint  to  Long  Branch  to  boord  in  a  three-dollar-a-waik 
hotel.  May  the  divil  pull  the  shnouts  aff  av  thim,  but 
they  thraipsed  up  an'  down  Ocean  avnoo  as  proud  as  pay- 
cocks  an'  wud  as  shtiff  nicks  as  aff  they  had  all  the  goold 
an'  diminds  av  the  Say-Saw  av  Persia,  an'  begolly,  they 
tell  me  the  same  laddybuck  has  mooney  that  plinty  that  he 
shtores  id  up  in  coffee  pots  in  his  cellar.  Well,  lo !  and  be- 
hould  ye,  fwhat  diz  the  bong-tongs  at  the  Branch  do,  but 
they  goes  an'  insists  that  the  man  that  owns  the  goat 
wagons  musht  thrim  all  the  goats'  fhwhiskers  in  the  same 
shtoyle  as  Leftie  Malowney's.  You  know  Leftie,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty — he  wears  his  sunsets,  as  my  Tammy  calls 


276  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

them,  an  his  Adam's  apple  an'  they  make  his  face  luk  loike 
a  mushmelon  fritther  wud  wan  ind  av  id  an  foire.  Sorra 
the  wurrud  av  loie  Oi'm  tellin'  ye,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but 
fwhin  the  goats  war  shaved  they  had  th'  purthiest  galways 
ye  uver  saw  outside  av  Pether  Cooper's,  an'  God  help  iz,  all 
the  bong-tongs  wint  purfectly  crazy  over  thim. 

"Malowney  got  back  yistherda'  an'  the  fusht  thing  he 
axed  me  was  fwhy  Oi  didn't  have  me  goat's  fwhishkers 
thrimmed  in  the  regalur  shtoyle.  Oi  towld  him  id  was 
none  av  his  bezniss  an'  that  my  Billy  was  too  daycint  an' 
reshpectible  a  goat  to  be  wearin'  red,  fwhoite  an'  blue  gal- 
ways.  'Oi'll  thrim  his  fwhishkers,  Mr.  Malowney,'  sez  Oi. 
'But  Oi'll  not  make  him  luk  loike  a  babboon,'  sez  Oi.  Ow 
wow !  but  mebbe  Malowney  wasn't  mad.  An'  to  make 
him  madder  Oi  did  thrim  Billy's  fwhishkers  a  la  bongza, 
as  Oi  towld  ye  afore — an'  luk  at  him  there  now,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,  wid  the  two  inds  av  his  wind-catchers  combed 
out  an  aither  soide.  Doezn't  he  luk  loike  a  raile  out 
an*  out  Frinchman  all  the  way  from  Paree,  wud  frag's 
legs  shtickin'  out  av  his  pockets?  Isn't  Billy  a  daisy  wid 
his  fwhishkers  thrimmed  a  la  polly-boo-bongzay  ? 
Fwhere's  Malowney's  sunset  galways  now  ?  They're  not  in 
it — no,  ma'am,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  they're  not  in  id  at  all, 
at  all." 


THE  NEW  BONNETS  AND  THE  OLD. 

"Begorry,  id  allamosht  takes  wan's  breath  away,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty." 

"Fwhat — th'  consoomption,  Mrs.  Magoogin?"' 

"No,  but  St.  Pathrick's  Day  an'  Aister  comin'  so  quick 
together,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Yis,  an'  th'  serkus,  too,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  277 

"Oy,  that's  so,  Barnim's  serkus  is  comin*.  Upon  me 
wurrud,  they  ought  to  prowide  Johanna  wud  a  new  Aister 
bonnit,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  Choiko  wud  a  shoot  av 
spring  clothes,"  said  the  Widow.  "Oi'd  loike  to  have  an 
Aisther  bonnit  fur  mesel',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  Oi  can't 
andershtand  these  new  fandangled  shtoyles,  an'  th'  owld 
bonnit  that  Oi  was  marrid  in  '11  shtand  me  in  fur  a  few 
years'  more  wear  afther  Oi  put  a  new  rosy  in  th'  front  av 
id,  an'  sew  an  a  pair  av  new  shtrings. 

"Yohoho-ho,  but  id's  thim  owld-toime  bonnits  that  was 
th'  rale  'annist  article,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Sure,  an'  they 
don't  build  houses  anny  more  loike  they  ushed  to,  anny 
more  than  they  make  min  loike  they  ushed  to,  an'  th'  bon 
nits  av  th'  prisint  day  ar'  no  more  loike  th'  bonnits  we  wore 
afore  th'  war  than  a  piece  av  turf  is  loike  th'  statchoo  av 
Liberty  on  a  monnymint,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Thim  was 
sinsible  bonnits  that  we  had  in  th'  good  owld  toimes,  wid  th' 
besht  av  shtraw  in  thim  an'  they  sot  on  th'  head  nait  an* 
aisy  loike,  an'  war  purty  an'  a  purtection  besoides,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty. 

"But  luk  at  the  bonnits  now,  me  frind.  See  th'  quare 
conthrivances  they're  sellin'  to  put  an  th'  top  av  yer  head 
these  days,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Fwhy,  bad  sesht  to  me,  but 
wasn't  Oi  up  an  Diwision  sthreet  this  mawrnin'  an'  didn't 
Oi  see  th'  comickillest  quality  av  hats  an'  bonnits  that  a 
woman  this  side  av  th'  Fay  Jay  Oislands  uver  lukt  upon,  me 
frind.  May  th'  divil  pull  th'  throttle  out  av  me  aff  they 
didn't  have  bonnits  there  no  bigger  than  th'  nail  av  me 
thoomb,  little  bits  of  scrawneens  an'  squeejeens  av  bonnits 
that  a  floy  kud  floy  away  wud,  mavourneen.  They're  all 
woire  an'  lace  an'  flitthery-flutthery  wud  ribbons,  an'  that's 
all  there's  in  them — none  av  th'  gud  ould  sinsible  shtraw 
bonnits  wud  hoigh  shkoy-scrapin'  fronts  that  toied  in  big 
bowkcots  undher  th'  chin, 


2/8  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

"Bliss  iz  an'  save  is,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  th'  rule  now 
saimes  to  be  th'  bigger  th'  head,  th'  shmaller  th'  bonnit. 
Upon  me  wurrud,  Oi'd  not  give  my  owld  bonnit,  bad  as  it 
is,  for  all  the  new  shtoyle  Aisther  bonnits  in  Noo  Yorruk. 
Divil  resaive  th'  bit  av  zaggeration  in  id  fwhin  Oi  tell  ye 
that  moine  id  make  twinty  av  thim.  Fwhishper !  Begorry, 
aff  they  make  their  Aisther  bonnits  any  shmaller,  Oi'm 
afther  thinkin'  that  fwhin  a  woman  puts  wan  av  them  an 
she'll  have  to  ushe  a  foinetooth  comb  to  find  it  again,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty  I" 


GREEN  IS  A  FASHIONABLE  COLOR. 

"They  can't  go  back  an  owld  Oireland,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty." 

"No,  indade,  mam,  they  can't,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"They  may  thry  to  make  little  av  id,  but  they  fail  in  th* 
attempt,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Thrue  fur  ye,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Do  fwhat  they  will,"  said  the  Widow,  triumphantly, 
"there  nuver  was  a  minnit  fwhin  owld  Oireland  wasn't  in 
id,  as  they  say  av  little  Willie  in  th'  song,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty.  Fwhere  do  our  besht  1'yers  an'  joodges  come  from  ? 
Oireland.  Fwhere  do  our  great  poets  come  from?  Oire 
land.  Who  war  th'  besht  sojers  in  th'  war,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty?  Oirishmin.  Who  ar'  th'  besht  roolers  in  Noo 
Yorruk  city?  Oirishmin.  Who  is  id  owns  Noo  Yorruk, 
anyways,  Oi  don't  know?  Fwhy,  th'  Oirish,  to  be  coorse, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Docthur  Poicrust  may  do  his  dangdest 
to  thry  to  take  id  away  fram  thim,  but  he'll  nuver  succade. 
Fwhy,  id  was  only  th'  other  day  Oi  hurd  a  Tannamy  man 
say  that  thay  war  thinkin'  av  makin'  th'  fusht  av  th'  year 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  279 

begin  on  St.  Pathrick's  Day,  an'  have  uvry  17th  av  Marrch 
a  naytional  holiday  besoides.  Thin  th'  year  id  be  shorter, 
don't  ye  see,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  the  office  bowlders 
wouldn't  have  to  wurruk  twelve  months  long  to  get  a  full 
year's  pay. 

"Lave  it  to  Tannamy  Hall  to  do  things!  They're  the 
laddy  bucks  that  knows  fwhether  id's  rainin'  ur  not  out- 
soide  fwhin  the  weather  is  bad,  and  fwhin  they  want  til 
arrange  anythin',  id's  thim  that  knows  how,  an'  make  no 
mishtake,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty!  Oi  wudn't  be  a  bit  shup- 
proised  but  fwhat  id  was  thim  that  got  the  present  raycog- 
neeshin  of  the  Imerald  Oisle  in  th'  prevailin'  fashions,  me 
f rind.  But  fwhether  id  was  or  no,  Oireland  is  at  the  front, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'hoigh-chooned  women  ar'  wearin'  av 
th'  green  to-day  that  id  a'  hanged  iz  lasht  month  for  wearin' 
id  av  they  kud.  Yis,  mi  f  rind,  the  Oirish  green  is  the  stoy- 
lishest  av  all  th'  colors  this  sayson ;  f aix,  an'  in  fact,  id's  thj 
only  stoylish  color.  An'  yurra,  my,  but  isn't  id  th'  beyooti- 
ful  color  it  is,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Me  daughter  Toozy 
brought  home  a  yard  av  ribbon  an'  id  remoinded  me  fur  all 
th'  wurruld  av  the  meadows  at  home ;  the  green  was  th'  color 
av  th'  grass  that  id's  manny's  th'  toime  Give  rowled  in  near 
Ballinas]o.  Begorry,  id  makes  me  feel  as  aft*  Oi  was  boick 
in  the  owld  dart  to  take  a  walk  along  Fift'  avenoo  an'  a 
Soonday  afternoon  an'  see  all  th'  green  there  is  an  th'  hot 
tongs  as  they  walks  along.  Oi  ushed  to  be  a  little  sinsitive 
about  me  owld  green  shawl,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  since 
the  new  shtoyle  has  came  in,  an*  Airyin  laids  the  fashions, 
bad  sesht  to  me,  but  Oi  feel  that  Oi'm  roight  in  it  up  to  me 
nick,  me  frind,  an'  Oi  kin  wriggle  me  tail  now  as  proudly 
as  anny  uv  thim,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Fwhat  nonsinse  id 
was  to  be  afther  makin'  sooch  a  hullaballoo  about  roisin* 
the  Oirish  colors  abow  the  City  Hall.  Here  is  uvry  belle 
an'  blond  and  brunette  in  the  methrolopis  now  h'istin'  th' 


280  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

green  flag  in  her  bonnit  an'  thryin'  to  purtind  she's  Oirish 
simply  because  id's  th'  shtoyle.  Yurra,  wurra,  but  fwhat 
won't  th'  payple  do  to  be  in  th'  shwing,  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty?" 

"Fwhat's  that?  Ye  nuver  heard  av  it?  Bad  scran  to 
ye !  but  aff  ye  ped  attintion  to  fwhat  was  goin'  an  in  this 
wnrruld  the  same  as  Oi  do  ye'd  not  have  to  be  towld  this 
day  that  all  th'  somebodies  in  socoiety,  all  the  belles  and 
byooties,  all  th'  foine  ladies  an  Linnox  Hill  an'  all  the 
shwell  daisies  an'  the  West  Soide  ar'  thricked  out  in  green 
until  they  luk  for  all  the  wurmld  loike  animated  shama- 
rogues,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Thim  monsthrous  sleeves  that 
they  do  be  wearin'  shticks  up  an'  out  loike  laives  an  th' 
shamarogue  an'  that  makes  th'  simrimblince  all  th'  more 
perpindicular,  me  frind.  There's  green  in  th'  dhresses 
an'  green  in  th'  hats;  there's  green  in  the  stockin's,  an' 
green  thrimmin's,  an'  green  jaboes  an'  green  doidoes — ivry- 
thing  is  green.  Begorry  it's  a  wondher  th'  horses  don't  ait 
some  av  thim  bong-tongs,  they're  that  green  in  their  twi 
lights,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Yurra  my,  but  id's  full  av  j'y, 
Oi  am  fwhin  Oi  see  all  the  green  that's  goin'.  Upon  me 
sowl  id  makes  me  feel  loike  singing,  Taddy  dear,  an'  did 
ye  hear'  that  'Green  grow  the  rushes,  0'  an'  'Come  back  to 
Airyin'  me  own  Cruiskeen  Lawn.'  That's  fwhat  they  calls 
a  medley  an  th'  stage,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"Bad  rattle  me,  but  Oi  can't  help  singin',  Oi'm  that 
happy  wud  thinkin'  av  th'  throiumph  that  dear  ould  Oire- 
land  has  med,  me  frind.  An  oh,  but  mcbbe  th'  Aisther 
bonnits  in  green  an'  goold  ain't  jisht  too  lovely,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty  !  Oi  was  thryin'  wan  on  in  Division  sthreet 
yistherda,  an'  be  the  Lord  Harry  but  Oi  lukt  like  a  cuckoo 
in  id.  The  woman  axed  me  $3  for  id  an'  Oi  offert  her 
sivinty-five  cints.  To  tell  ye  th'  throoth  an'  Oi  didn't 
have  but  tin  cints  wud  me  an'  me  hart  was  in  me  mout' 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  28  I 

afeerd  that  the  woman  id  say  she'd  take  the  sivinty-five, 
but  she  hild  out  fur  a  dollar  an'  tin  cints,  so  Oi  walked 
out,  tellin'  her  Oi'd  think  about  id.  But  Oi'll  get  id  afore 
Aisther,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Me  daughter  Toozy  is  up 
lukin'  at  id  now  an'  passin'  her  opinion  about  id,  an'  Oi'll 
buy  id  wud  th'  next  wash  money.  Oi  kin  wear  id  wud 
me  green  silk  shawl  that  Oi  brought  over  wud  me  fram 
the  owld  dart,  an'  fwhin  Oi  put  th'  two  av  thim  an  an'  go 
up  an'  promenade  Fif't  avnoo  abow,  wud  th'  other  hoigh- 
choonies,  mark  my  wurruds,  there  '11  not  be  an  Aisther 
twoilight  that  '11  be  purtier  ur  more  conspicorious,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty !" 


THE  $500  GARTERS. 

"Have  ye  air  a  f oive  hundhert  dollars  loose  about  ye,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty  ?" 

"Murdher  an'  turf,  woman !     Fwhat  do  ye  mane  ?" 

"Fwhat  Oi  say.  Have  ye  air  a  foive  hundhert  dollars 
about  yer  clothes  handy  ?" 

"Is  id  thryin'  to  make  a  fool  av  me  ye  ar',  Mrs.  Ma- 


googm 


"No,  indade,  but  id's  thryin'  to  make  a  fool  av  mesel' 
Oi  am,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow.  "Shtand 
there  an'  Oi'll  tell  ye.  Me  daughther  Toozy  follies  up  th' 
shtoyles,  d'ye  know,  an'  fwhinuver  she  f oinds  annythin'  that 
she  thinks  her  mimmaw — Oi  can't  brake  her  aff  av  callin* 
me  mimmaw,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty — that  her  mimmaw  ud 
loike  to  know  she  tells  me  about  it  an'  so  Oi  keep  up  wud 
th'  toimes,  d'ye  see  ?  Well,  lo  an'  behold  ye,  f  what  diz  she 
tell  me  to-day  but  that  a  jewlyer  up  an  th'  Bow'ry  abow 
has  garters  fur  sale  that  he  axes  foive  hundhert  dollars 


282  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

apiece  fur.  'An'  sure  an'  fwhat  in  the  wurruld  koind  av 
garters  kin  they  be,  Toozy  darlint?'  sez  Oi.  'Oh,  they're 
goold  an'  silver  an'  diomonds,  mimmaw/  sez  she.  'An'  who 
wears  thim,  agrah?'  sez  Oi.  'Annybody  that  gets  thim/ 
sez  she.  'Ye  mane  annybody  that  foinds  fools  to  give  'era 
to  thim  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Yis/  sez  she.  'Thin  it  id  be  a  long  toime 
afore  Oi'd  think  av  wearin'  thim,  f whither  anny  wan  gev 
thim  to  me  or  no,'  sez  Oi.  'Oh,  to  be  coorse  you'd  not  wear 
thim,  mimmaw,'  sez  she.  'You're  not  shwell  enoof/  sez 
she.  'An'  would  you  wear  thim  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Bet  yer  loife  Oi 
wud,'  sez  she.  'Oh,  thin,  you're  shwell  an'  Oi  ain't  ?'  sez  Oi. 
'But  }rou're  so  owld  an'  playbayan,mimmaw,'  sez  she. 
'Oh,  Oi  am/  sez  Oi.  'Well,  let  me  tell  you,  me  foine  lady/ 
sez  Oi,  'that  aff  Oi  was  twoice  as  owld  an'  tin  toimes  as  play- 
bayan  as  Oi  am/  sez  Oi,  'Oi'd  nuver  put  a  foive  hundhert 
dollar  garter  an  me  leg/  sez  Oi.  'An'  Oi'll  tell  ye  fwhy/ 
sez  Oi.  'They're  fit  fur  nobody  but  dizzy  blondes  an'  bur- 
leskew  acthors/  sez  Oi,  'an'  annybody  else  that's  daycint 
an'  has  anny  av  the  fusht  principles  av  eddicashun'll  not 
wear  thim/  sez  Oi. 

"Then  Oi  gev  her  me  whole  moind  an  the  subjeck  an'  aff 
she  didn't  blish  an'  stutther  Oi'll  ait  me  apron,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty.  Fwhat  raickless  nonsense  id  is  to  ax  a  gerrul 
that  has  anny  regarrud  fur  hersel'  to  wear  garters  med 
out  av  goold  an'  silver  an'  doimonds,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
Sure  'n'  she  can't  wear  id  an  her  arrum,  or  around  her  nick, 
an'  how's  anny  wan  goin'  to  see  id?  An'  aff  uv'ry- 
body  can't  see  id  f  what's  th'  ushe  av  havin'  id? 
Wan  moight  as  well  have  a  bit  av  an  owld  shoeshtring  or 
a  piece  av  a  clothes  loine.  Nuver  you  moind  me,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,  but  there's  somethin'  very  suspicious  about 
thim  foive  hundhert  dollar  garters.  They  warn't  flyin' 
around  in  th'  days  f  whin  you  an'  Oi  war  garruls,  war  they  ? 
An*  aff  they  war  an'  anny  man  was  to  offer  iz  a  prisint  av 


WIDOW    MAGOOGIN.  283 

wan  of  them  we'd  give  him  a  shlap  acrast  th'  face  wild  id 
an'  tell  him  to  go  along  out  av  our  soight  about  his  bizniss, 
so  we  wud.  Doimonds  aren't  med  to  be  carried  around  in 
pockits  ur  hidden  away  in  foireplaces;  they're  med  to  be 
seen  an'  shown,  and  fwhin  they're  shtuck  into  garters, 
God  help  us,  but  th'  wurruld  musht  be  goin'  to  th'  shiverin* 
divils  intoirely !  Oi'll  nuver  wear  anny  av  their  foive  hun- 
dhert  dollerers,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Not  me.  Oi  have  a 
lingth  av  fwhoite  shtring  fur  wan  an'  a  bit  av  braid  fur  th' 
other  an'  th'  goold  an'  doimonds  in  thim  '11  nuver  cause  me 
to  lose  me  sowl.  Fwhin  Tammy  hurd  me  talkin'  about 
thim  to  Toozy,  he  sed  to  me,  sez  he,  'Mudder,'  sez  he — 
Tammy  always  calls  me  mudder  an'  Toozy  calls  me  mim- 
maw — 'Mudder,'  sez  he,  'thim  garters  av  yours  is  out  av 
eight.'  'That's  fwhere  Oi  want  thim  to  be,  Tammy,  avic/ 
BCZ  Oi.  An'  thin  we  all  had  a  gud  laugh  at  th'  joke,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty." 


HAND-PAINTED   SHIRTS. 

"There's  more  throuble  ahead  for  the  poor,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty." 

"An'  sure  an'  fwhat  is  id  now,  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 
"Wait  until  Oi  tell  ye  an'  thin  see  fwhat  ye'll  say  to  it, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"All  roight  thin,  Oi'll  wait,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 
"It's  a  new  shtoyle,  me  frind,  an'  they  calls  thim  hand- 
painted  shurruts,"  said  the  Widow,  with  an  air  of  contempt 
for  the  artistic  innovation  in  man's  raiment.  "Oi  haven't 
seen  thim  yet,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  me  daughther  Toozy 
has  an'  she's  th'  wan  upset  me  intoirely  about  thim.  She's 
always  sarchin'  up  somethin'  new  for  that  little  bandy 
legged  an*  yally-neckt  Ditch  husban'  av  hers,  so  she  is. 


284  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

Sure'n  a  fwhoile  ago,  didn't  she  have  to  go  up  an  th'  Bow'ry 
abow  an'  pay  forty-noine  cints  fur  a  noight  shurrut  fur 
him  to  wear  f whin  he's  in  bed  ?  Now,  who  in  th'  wurruld 
liver  hurd  th'  loikes  av  id  afore,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty? 
Buyin'  shurruts  for  a  man  to  pit  an  him  f  whin  he's  goin'  to 
bed. 

"There's  my  Dinny — God  be  good  to  his  sowl,  an'  Oi  hope 
it's  out  av  tormint  he  is  long  ago,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty — 
there's  my  Dinny,  as  gud  an'  as  foine  an'  daycint  an' 
careful  a  man  as  uver  dhrew  th'  breath  av  loife,  an'  he 
nuver  axed  to  wair  a  noight  shurrut  an'  he  nuver 
hurd  tell  av  wan  in  his  loife,  aither,  Oi'll  howld  ye. 
His  undershumit  was  gud  enoof  fur  him  to  shlape  in,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty!  An'  there's  my  b'y  Tammy  that  knows 
uv'rythin'  that's  goin'  an  in  s'soi'ty,  high  an'  low,  an'  that 
shpinds  a  great  dail  av  his  toime  up  about  th'  Polo 
Grounds  abow  wid  th'  ball  players,  fwhere  there's  shtoyle 
aff  uver  there  was  shtoyle  annyfwhere,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
an'  Tammy  nuver  axes  annybody  to  shpind  forty-noine 
cints  for  a  noight  shurrut  fur  him.  But  Hinnery !  Little 
scrawny-nickt  Ditch  Hinnery,  musht  have  thim,  an'  he 
musht  have  hand-painted  shurruts,  too. 

"Yarra,  musha,  but  my  shwate  bad  luck  to  him  an'  his 
shurruts !  But  id's  Toozy  Oi  blame,  not  him.  Id's  all  her 
doin's,  th'  crazy  little  shrimp,  tlnrin'  to  be  up  wid  all  th' 
latest  shtoyles  an'  in  th'  shwim,  as  she  sez  herseF.  Faix 
:n*  id's  often  Oi  tells  her  to  go  down  to  th'  free  bats  aff  she 
wants  to  be  in  the  shwim,  but  begorry  she  nuver  deigns 
to  aiven  shmoile  at  th'  joke,  an'  id's  a  good  wan,  isn't  id 
now,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  But  she  kern  home  th'  other  day 
all  bilin'  over  wid  thizusiasm  an'  she  sez  to  me,  sez  she, 
thryin'  to  hold  her  breath  bechuxt  the  wurruds,  'Oh, 
mimmaw,'  sez  she,  'but  Oi've  found  out  somethin'  noice  to 
buy  fur  Hinnery !'  sez  she.  'An'  fwhat  is  id  now,  me  dar- 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  285 

lint?'  sez  Oi.  'A  hand-painted  shurrut/  sez  she.  'A 
fwhat?'  sez  Oi,  almosht  kerflummixed.  'A  shurrut  wud 
flyowers  painted  an  th'  front/  sez  she.  'Is  id  crazy  ye  ar'  ?' 
sez  Oi.  'No/  sez  she.  'Thin  somebody  is,'  sez  Oi,  'an'  id's 
not  me,  aither/  sez  Oi.  'Fwhat  in  th'  name  av  th'  Joints' 
Causeway  diz  Hinnery  want  wud  a  hand-painted  shurrut  ?' 
sez  Oi.  'Oh,  it's  so  noice/  sez  she.  'Yis,  an'  id'll  be  noice 
hand-painted  washin'  id'll  be  wantin'  uv'ry  week,  an'  Oi'll 
howld  tin  dollars  id'll  not  be  you  that'll  be  af ther  raisin'  a 
finger  to  do  id,'  sez  Oi.  'You're  too  practickle,  mimmaw/ 
sez  she,  tossin'  her  head  an'  goin'  out  av  th'  kitchen  into 
th'  parlor.  'You  kin  bet  yer  loife  Oi  am,'  sez  Oi.  'An'  Oi 
have  to  be,  too,  fur  id's  yer  poor  owld  mother  that  has  to 
fret  an'  shtew  over  th'  washtub  fwhoile  you're  up  in  Cin- 
thril  Parruk  an'  Fift'  Av'noo  havin'  yer  h'ity-t'ities  an* 
cuttin'  up  yer  doidoes  wud  th'  hoigh-chuned  s'soi'ty  folks/ 
sez  Oi. 

"But  divil  th'  hap'orth  she  cares,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
so's  she  has  her  foive  o'clock  tays  an'  Hinnery  has  his  hand- 
painted  shurruts  to  pit  an  him  whin  he  comes  home  from 
his  wurruk  at  th'  toboicky  facthory.  But  nuver  moind, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Oi'll  fix  thim  aff  they  bring  anny  av 
they're  hand-painted  nonsensicalities  into  this  house.  By 
th'  tail  av  Pat  O'Hara's  goat,  but  th'  minnit  they  do  Oi'll 
sind  Tammy  out  fur  tin  cints'  worth  av  lamp  black  an'  axle 
graise,  an'  aff  Oi  doon't  hand-paint  th'  sate  av  Hinnery's 
new  lavendher  throusers  so  that  he'll  not  be  able  to  laive 
th'  house  fur  a  month  av  Sunda's,  thin  Oi'm  a  ring-tailed 
moonkey  an'  my  name's  not  Berdie  Magoogin,  Esq.  Do 
ye  moind  that,  now,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 


286  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 


ARETHUSA'S  HIGH  HAT. 

"Did  ye  see  me  Toozy's  noo  hat  yet,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 
the  Widow  Magoogin  asked  as  she  wiped  a  rim  of  foam 
from  her  mouth  with  the  corner  of  her  check  apron. 

"Was  it  one  o'  thim  high  ones,  Mrs.  Magoogin?"  the 
neighbor  inquired. 

Taix  'n'  it  was  a  very  hoigh  wan,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 
"Well,  then,  Oi  didn't  see  it,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 
"Oi'm  downroight  glad  ye  didn't,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty," 
said  the  Widow,  "fur  in  the  fusht  place  it  id  make  ye 
crass-oyed  to  luk  at  it,  an'  in  th'  nuxt  it  id  give  ye  a  poorer 
openyin  than  ye  haves  now,  perhaps,  av  th'  immount  av 
common  sinse  there  is  in  th'  Magoogin  fam'ly.  She  sez  to 
me,  sez  she,  fwhin  she  brawt  it  home,  'Mimmaw,'  sez 
she — she  always  calls  me  mimmaw,  pittin'  a  twisht 
an  th'  ind  av  her  tongue  an'  a  curl  an'  the  cawrner  av  her 
mouth  loike  a  Frinchman  wud  th'  toothache — but  that's 
naither  here  nur  there.  'Mimmaw,'  sez  she,  howldin'  th' 
hat  bechuxt  me  an'  th'  lamp,  'shtag  th'  oye  shtopper, 
sez  she.  'An  fwhy  do  ye  call  it  an  oye  shtopper, 
Toozy  me  darlint,'  sez  Oi.  'Bekase,'  sez  she,  'fwhin  anny 
wan's  sittin'  behoind  it  they  moight  as  well  thry  to  luk 
through  a  breek,'  sez  she.  'Aha  !'  sez  Oi.  'But  f  what  do  ye 
think  uv  it's  hoight?'  sez  she.  'Do  ye  want  me  to  tell  ye 
th'  thruth?'  sez  Oi.  'Give  it  to  me  shtraight,'  sez  she. 
'Thin,  busht  my  bluddy  nuvers,'  sez  Oi,  'Oi'll  give  it  to  ye 
as  shtraight  as  Oi  knows  how,'  sez  Oi.  'Shpit  it  out,'  sez 
she.  'Divil  a  shpit  Oi'll  shpit  at  all,'  sez  Oi ;  'but  ye  axed 
me  fwhat  Oi  thought  uv  th'  hoight  av  yer  oye-shtopper,  as 
ye  calls  it,'  sez  Oi.  'An'  Oi'm  naither  shpittin'  nor  shput- 
terin','  sez  Oi  to  her,  'fwhin  Oi  tell  ye  that  Oi  think  it's 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  2S/ 

too  hoigh  fur  yer  nut  altogether,  Toozy/  sez  Oi.  That 
caused  her  to  cock  up  her  shnout  an'  walk  aff  as  aff  she 
had  a  bar  av  railroad  iron  rinnin'  up  an'  down  in  her  back 
bone.  Dcshcroibe  it  to  ye,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  Fwhy,  ye 
moight  as  well  ax  me  to  bring  th'  rock  av  Cashel  across  th' 
say  an  me  showlders,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an7  set  it  down 
rought  here  in  yer  back  yard.  Oi  kud  no  more  deshcroibe 
it  than  Oi  kud  tell  ye  fwhat  owld  Dinivin  doied  av  lasht 
waik,  an'  th'  docthors  sed  he  had  a  hundhert  'disaises  an* 
anny  wan  av  thim  was  enoof  to  carry  him  aff.  Av  coorse 
its  height  is  its  principle  fayture.  It's  that  hoigh,  me  f rind, 
it  id  paraloize  ye  to  luk  at  it.  Th'  Liberty  Statoo  at  th' 
Batthery  belyow  isn't  knee-hoigh  to  a  grasshopper  com 
pared  wud  it.  It's  no  wondher,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that 
th'  min  diz  be  kickin'  about  hoigh  hats  in  th'  theaytre. 
Begorry,  Oi'd  kick  about  it  mesel',  fur  it's  church  shtaiples 
they  ar',  an'  not  hats  at  all,  that  th'  wimmin  diz  be  wearin' 
nowadays,  me  frind.  Tammy  sez  they're  so  hoigh  that  they 
have  to  get  a  huke  an'  laddher  to  pit  thim  an.  Fwhy  doon't 
the  min  bring  shtep-laddhers  to  th'  theaythre  an'  sit  an 
th'  top  av  thim  an'  thin  mebbe  they  kud  see  th'  play  acthors 
playin'  on  th'  stage.  My  blessin's  on  th'  man  that'll  do 
somethin'  av  th'  koind,  aff  it's  only  jisht  to  raise  a  laugh 
at  th'  ixpinse  av  th'  aggravatin'  owld  nooshances.  My 
Tammy  sez  he'd  take  a  shtep  laddher  to  th'  theaythre  wid 
him  in  a  holy  minnit,  so  he  wud,  aff  they  gev  him  anny 
ann'yance,  but  Tammy  goes  up  in  th'  gallery,  fwhich  is 
at  th'  top  av  th'  house,  as  ye  knows,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an* 
he  sez  noan  av  th'  hoigh  hat  gerruls  goes  up  there,  at  all, 
at  all.  There's  fwhere  th'  min  who  can't  get  anny  gud  av 
th'  hoigh  hats  ought  to  go,  too,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  up  in 
th'  gallery,  fwhere  my  b'y  Tammy  always  goes,  God  bless 
his  toof  little  mug  I" 


288  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 


ARETHUSA'S  DECOLLETE  DRESS. 

"Pray  tell  me  now,  Mrs.  Magoogin,"  said  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty,  as  she  leaned  over  the  fence  yesterday  morning, 
"fwhat  does  ye  let  yer  daughther  wear  that  Pompydour 
dhress  for,  that  Oi  saw  her  have  on  at  th'  lep  year  party 
lasht  Sathurda'  noight?" 

"Is  it  Arethoosy's  dollyket,  ye  mane  ?"  asked  the  Widow 
Magoogin. 

"Faith  'n'  Oi  doon't  know,"  said  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
"fwhether  it's  a  dollyket  or  a  Dolly  Varden,  but  Oi  do 
know  that  th'  nick  is  cut  too  low  for  anny  dacint  gerrul 
to  wear  outsoide  av  her  bed." 

"Sure,  an'  that's  fwhat  she  calls  her  dollyket,"  the 
Widow  explained.  "Dollyket  is  Frinch  for  a  low-nicked 
dhress,  an'  bad  sesht  to  th'  Frinch  fur  uver  inventin'  sich 
a  dishgraceful  twoiloight.  Oi'm  av  th'  same  moind  as  yer- 
self,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  in  regard  to  th'  bad  charackther  av 
th'  garmint,  but  Arethusy  wudn't  give  me  resht  day  or 
noight  antil  Oi  consinted  to  her  wearin'  wan.  So  aff  she 
goes  to  a  dhressmaker  an'  has  it  med.  Fwhin  she  kem 
home  wid  it  an'  put  it  an,  sorra  wan  av  me  knew  fwhat 
to  make  av  it.  'Fwhat  was  th'  matter/  sez  Oi  to  her, 
'that  she  didn't  finish  th'  nick?'  sez  Oi.  'Fwhy,  ma/  sez 
ehe,  'it  is  finished.  'Is  it  that  you  call  finished/  sez  Oi; 
'my  dear  gerrul,  they  can  see  yer  chist  prothector  through 
that  openin',  sez  Oi.  'Oh,  that's  all  roight,  ma/  sez  she, 
'that's  th'  shtoyle  now/  'Well,  be  all  th'  goats/  sez  Oi,  'aff 
that's  th'  shtoyle  it's  a  vury  sinful  shtoyle/  sez  Oi,  'an  it'll 
give  ye  yer  death  av  cowld  th'  fusht  noight  yet  get  into 
it,  to  say  nothin'  av  th'  shame/  sez  Oi,  'av  exposin'  that 
scrawney  yellow  nick  av  yours/  sez  Oi.  But  all  Oi  could 


WIDOW  MAGOOGIN.  289 

say  ud  do  no  good,  an*  uv'ry  little  Saturda'  noight  hop  or 
Friday  noight  party  she  goes  to,  out  she  throts  in  her  dolly- 
ket,  wid  nothin'  but  a  bit  av  mishkitty-bar  across  her 
boosom  and  a  soup  bunch  shtuck  in  her  waishtband." 

"Wurra,  wurra,  wurra,  but  this  is  gettin'  to  be  a  terrible 
wuruld,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  th'  more  Oi  see  av  it,  the 
gladder  Oi  am  to  know  that  Oi'll  sune  be  laivin'  it.  Jisht 
think  av  th'  fools  th'  min  and  wimmen  ar'  makin'  av  thim- 
selves,  an'  wan  day  is  worse  than  another  wid  'em.  They're 
cuttin'  the  nicks  av  their  dhresses  so  low  now  that  they 
moight  almosht  as  well  not  wear  anny  waists  at  all,  at  all, 
and  Oi  guess  th'  nuxt  thing  they'll  be  doin'  is  cuttin'  their 
shkerts  hoigh  to  show  aff  their  shanks  like  th'  bally  dancers 
in  th'  theayter.  Musha,  an'  throth,  an'  aff  my  daughther 
Arethoosy  uver  thries  to  deck  hersel'  out  in  that  way  Oi'll 
moighty  quick  show  her  th'  dure  an'  laive  her  go  roidin* 
harses  in  th'  serkus  or  hangin'  be  her  jowl  from  th'  flyin' 
thrapaze,  fwhere  she  won't  have  to  wear  anny  clothes  worth 
mintionin'.  Oi've  made  up  me  moind  to  that,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,  an'  mark  my  wurrud  you'll  see  me  do  fwhat  Oi 
say.  Dacincy  is  wan  thing,  but  dollykets  is  another,  an' 
fwhin  Arethoosy  wears  out  th  'wan  she's  got  divil  resaive 
th'  suckund  she'll  uver  put  upon  her  back  as  long  as  my 
name  is  Berdie  Magoogin." 


HER  COURT  COSTUME. 

"Who  th'  divil  is  this  infint  (Eulalie)  that's  comin'  fram 
Spain,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?" 

"How  in  th'  name  av  common  sinse  shud  Oi  know,  Mrs. 
Magoogin  ?" 

"Or  me  ayther,  an'  here  they  ar'  axin'  me  to  go  to  a 
break-down  in  her  hanner,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

"Is  that  so,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"Faix  'n'  id  is,"  said  the  Widow.  "An*  fwhat's  worse, 
Oi'm  goin'  too,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  not  jisht  yet  agrah,  but 
as  soon  as  th'  infint  gets  here,  me  frind.  They  do  be  af ther 
telling  me  that  she's  somethin'  av  a  foine  lady  over  in 
Shpain,  where  they  ate  red  peppers  an'  shmoke  cigaroots, 
noight  an'  day,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Th'  inwoite  was  sint 
me  be  a  Cubyan  gintleman  that  shtands  hoigh  in  s'soi'ty 
an'  sells  shmuggled  seegars  fur  a  livin'.  He  belongs  to 
some  simicolon  association  that's  goin'  to  give  th'  dance 
an*  he  sez  that  as  there's  r'yal  blood  in  th'  infint's  brains, 
an'  she's  loi'ble  to  be  a  Queen  ur  King  ur  somethin'  av  that 
soort  over  in  Shpain  some  day,  they  want  to  give  her  a 
fursht-class  sind  off  an'  show  her  that  we  have  some  gerruls 
in  this  counthry  that  kin  dance  quoite  as  well  as  Carmy- 
cetty  or  shling  a  hoof  as  naitly  as  Otayro,  who  wus  at  th' 
Aiden  Museem  a  fwhoile  ago.  Th'  Ashtors  an'  th'  Vander- 
bilks  have  all  bin  inwoited  an  his  Cubanlets  tells  me  that 
uv'ry  wan  av  th'  ladies  musht  wear  coort  coshtooms  an' 
be  away  out  av  soight. 

"That'll  shoot  me  to  a  T-Y-tee,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi 
have  me  coort  coshtoom  as  handy  as  anny  av  thim,  me 
frind,  an'  there'll  none  av  thim  luk  anny  more  shcroomtious 
at  th'  shindig  than  will  Mrs.  Berdie  Magoogin,  Eshquoire, 
shud  they  shtop  to  inquoire,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi  was 
to  coort  wud  id  sev'ral  toimes,  me  frind — wanst  to  th' 
throi'l  about  Blind  Murphy's  will,  wanst  to  see  Blyuc- 
Oyed  Billy  McCarty  get  noine  months  fur  baitin'  his  poor 
owld  mother  antil  she  was  onsinsible,  an'  th'  lasht  toime 
fwhin  my  b'y  Tammy  was  up  afore  Joodge  Grady  an 
suspicion  av  wearin'  a  doimond  th'  soize  av  a  hin's  ecgg  in 
his  shirrut  front,  whin  it  turned  out  to  be  only  a  Rhoine 
shtone  thet  he  pickt  up  in  th'  alley.  They  thought  he 
ehtole  id,  Oi  shuppose,  but  he  nuver,  an'  Joodge  Grady, 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  29! 

loike  th'  gud  an'  flaycint  man  he  is  discharged  him  an'  let 
him  go.  Uv'rybody  that's  uver  seen  th'  coshtoom  sez  id's 
a  daisy,  an'  so  id  is,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  as  ye  moight  say 
yersil'  aff  ye  felt  loike  tellin'  th'  trooth,  fur  id's  oftin  an* 
oftin  ye  saw  it,  me  frind.  You  remim'er  th'  yally-shtroiped 
delaine  dhress,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  wud  th'  green  brocaded 
shawl  an'  th'  Impoire  bonnet  with  th'  red  ribbons  an'  th' 
shamarogue  in  id — well,  thet's  me  coort  coshtoom,  an* 
barrin'  id's  a  little  owld  an'  th'  goat  has  ate  th'  top  out  av 
th'  Impoire  bonnit  wanst  ur  twoist,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  id's 
as  f  oine  an'  illigant  a  coort  coshtoom  as  anny  th'  Shpanish 
infint'll  clap  her  oyes  upon,  me  frind. 

"Me  daughther  Toozy  throies  to  tell  me  that  ids  not  a 
coort  coshtoom  at  all  an'  that  Oi  doon't  know  fwhat  a  coort 
coshtoom  is,  but  Oi've  bin  to  coort  in  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
an'  Oi  know  id  was  a  faist  fur  th'  oyes  av  uv'ry  son  of  a 
say-cuke  in  th'  coort  room.  Id's  a  dandy  coort  coshtoom  an* 
her  r'yal  nibs  '11  be  paralyzed  wud  j'y  an'  shupproise  fwhin 
she  sees  id.  His  Cubyan  jaglets  sez  he's  goin'  in  coort  cosh 
toom,  too,  an'  that  he'll  wear  knee  breeches.  He  moosht 
have  a  han'some  pair  av  legs  to  be  af  ther  wantin'  to  do  that, 
mavourneen.  Oi  nuver  saw  his  legs,  though,  an'  av  coorse 
doon't  know  fwhat  they're  loike,  but  God  help  him  aff  he's 
bow-legged,  for  Oi'll  make  a  show  av  him  at  th'  ball,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty !" 


NEW  STYLES  FOR  DIVORCE  TRIALS. 

"Yurra,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  id's  a  quare  womild 
we're  livin'  in." 

"Throth  V  id's  thrue  for  ye,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 
"Yis,  indade  id  is,  an'  Oi'll  tell  ye  fwhy,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty." 


292  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

"Thin  fur  fwhy  is  id  that  ye  med  th'  remarruk,  Mrs. 
Magoogin  ?" 

"Oi  had  me  raisons,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow. 
"Lind  me  th'  loan  av  yer  air  an'  Oi'll  fwhishper  a  few 
wurruds  into  id  that'll  make  ye  think  th'  man  in  th' 
moon  abow  has  a  howlt  av  yer  poll  an'  is  thryin'  to  kiss  ye 
roight  shmack  andher  th'  nose,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi 
shuppose  id's  annecessairy  for  me  to  tell  ye  that  Oi'm  a  very 
busy  woman,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  as  busy  a  woman  in  faix 
as  there  is  to  be  found  in  th'  whole  Foorth  Warrud,  but, 
howsomuver,  Oi  manage  to  catch  howld  uv  nearly  uv'ry 
thing  that's  goin'  an,  so  Oi  do,  me  frind,  an'  that,  too,  God 
knows,  widout  pokin'  me  nose  into  me  neighbor's  bizness 
aither.  Me  daughther  Toozy  sometoimes  sinds  me  th' 
papers,  her  husban'  Hinnery  brings  home  all  th'  conver 
sations  av  th'  toboicky  facth'ry  fwhere  he  worruks  an' 
Tammy,  poor  soft  nacheril  fool  that  he  is,  he  picks  up  a 
great  dail  av  informashun  fram  th'  gang  an  the  cawrners, 
an'  so  bechuxt  an'  beclmne  wan  an'  th'  other  Oi  nuver  miss 
annythin'  gud  in  th'  way  av  th'  news,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
Nuver  moind,  me  frind,  Berdie  Magoogin,  Esquoire,  is  as 
shlick  as  they  make  thim,  so  she  is,  an'  doon't  ye  furgit  id. 

"Well,  Toozy  was  rcadin'  to  me  this  mawrnin'  about  a 
new  wrinkle  in  dhress-makin'.  Somebody  has  shtruck  th' 
oidaya  av  makin'  spaycial  twoiloights  fur  wimmin  thet  ar' 
gettin'  divoorces.  The  twoilets  ar'  to  be  worn  in  coort 
durin'  th'  throils — wan  dhress  uv'ry  day  in  th'  week  an' 
twoice  an'  Soonda's — an'  uv'ry  twoiloight,  they  say,  is  to  be  a 
purfeck  dhrame  av  loveliness  an'  is  to  cosht  a  forchin. 
There's  to  be  f  whoite  an'  black  twoiloights  an'  th'  Lord  only 
knows  fwhat  else,  wud  flyowers  an'  ribbons  galore  an'  uv'ry 
thing  noice  an'  purty  to  make  a  shmash  on  th'  jury  wud. 
Jisht  think  av  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  there's  dhresses  to 
dance  in,  dhresses  to  doine  in,  dhresses  to  play  fareo  an* 


WIDOW    MAGOOGIN.  293 

long  Dinnis  in,  dhresses  to  go  to  funerils  in  an'  to  get 
married  in,  an'  now,  the  Lord  bliss  iz  an'  save  iz,  we're  to 
have  dhresses  to  be  divoorced  in!  Fwhat's  the  wurruld 
comin'  to  at  all,  at  all,  Oi  doon't  know,  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty.  But  Oi  shuppose  id's  th'  pinalty  av  bein'  rich. 
Fwhin  there's  no  other  way  to  shpind  th'  money,  some 
nonsinse  musht  be  inwinted  to  make  id  go,  fur  go  id  musht 
wan  way  or  th'  other  wud  th'  rich,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
Here's  meseF  has  but  th'  wan  dhress  to  me  boick  fit  to  go 
annyfwhere  wud  an'  av  coorse  it  bothers  me  very  little 
fwhether  s'soi'ty  wears  diomind  buckles  an  ids  heels  this 
winther  ur  sailskin  rooffles  an  ids  petticoats,  but  id  do  make 
me  mad,  nuvertheless,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  to  hear  such  pre- 
poshtoreous  reedickulosities  as  this  divoorce  twoiloight 
bezniss  that's  now  talked  about. 

"Divoorce  twoiloights,  indade !  Do  yc  know  fwhat  Oi'd 
do  aff  me  owld  man  was  aloive — fwhich  Oi'm  sarry  to  say  he 
isn't,  God  be  marciful  to  his  sowl — but  aff  he  was  an'  he 
shooed  me  fur  a  divoorce,  do  ye  know  fwhat  koind  av  a 
twoiloight  Oi'd  be  af ther  lukin'  afther,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ? 
Oi'd  pit  an  the  loosest  an'  aisiest-fittin'  dhress  Oi  had,  so  Oi 
wud,  an'  Oi'd  rowl  up  th'  shleeves  an'  shpit  an  me  hands, 
an'  Oi'd  give  him  a  divoorce  wud  me  tumble  left  that  id 
laive  him  in  bed  fur  a  month,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi'd 
uppercut  and  cross-counther  him  as  John  L.  Soolivin  diz, 
antil  he  had  more  black  oyes  an'  broken  bones  than  air  a 
divoorce  judge  uver  hurd  about  in  th'  whole  coorse  av  his 
nacheril  loife,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 


294  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 


THE  AIGRETTE  BONNET. 

"Do  ye  renumber  th'  shtory  av  th'  Choinyman,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty?" 

"Faix,  'n'  it's  manny's  th'  shtory  Oi've  hurd  about 
Choinymin,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"But  this  is  th'  Choinyman  Oi  towlt  ye  about,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty." 

"Fwhat,  th'  one  wid  th'  shurrut  outsoide  his  pants,  Mrs. 
Magoogin  ?" 

"Yis,  the  same,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow,  glad 
to  see  that  her  neighbor  had  not  forgotten  th'  shtory. 
"Doon't  ye  remimber  that  fwhin  he  kem  up  to  me  shakin' 
loike  a  laif  an'  towlt  me  thet  id  wuz  belly  cowld,  Oi  up 
an  towld  him,  be  way  av  a  joke,  that  aff  he'd  put 
his  shurrut  insoide  av  his  pants  his  belly  id  not  be  cowld, 
an'  do  ye  remimber  they  put  th'  joke  into  th'  papers  an' 
uv'rybody  had  a  great  laugh  at  id?  Well,  be  all  that's 
howly,  aff  somethin'  av  th'  same  koind  didn't  happin  to 
me  yistherda'  mawrnin',  may  Oi  nuver  see  th'  boick  av  me 
nick,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty ! 

"Oi  was  in  an  Aist  Broadway  caar,  sittin'  quoietly  an* 
daycintly  in  th'  cawrner,  wud  me  shawl  aff  me  head  reshtin* 
an  me  showlders  fwhin  one  av  th'  hot  tongs  av  Clinton 
shtreet  got  in  th'  caar  an'  tuk  a  sait  oppozit  me,  d'ye  see? 
An'  fwhat  is  a  hot  tongs?  Well,  well,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
ye  shupproise  me  sinsibilities  fwhin  ye  tell  that  ye  doon't 
know  fwhat  a  hot  tongs  is !  How  ignororious !  Oh,  my. 
Oi  kin  harrudly  undhershtand  id.  But  nuver  moind,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  Oi'll  inloighten  ye.  Hot  tongs,  d'ye  moind, 
is  a  Frinch  wurrud  signifoyin'  hoigh-chuned,  an'  th'  gerrul 
that  Oi  sed  was  wan  av'  th'  hot  tongs  was  wan  av  th'  upper 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  29$ 

tin  av  Clinton  shtreet.  Her  father  keeps  a  dellicatissen 
ehtore  an'  they  live  in  a  flat  av  six  rooms  an  a  flyure  all 
by  thimselves,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"Well,  lo !  an*  behold  ye,  fwhat  diz  she  do  fwhin  she  sot 
down  in  the  caar  but  casht  an  oye  at  th'  tap  av  me  head. 
An'  begorry,  Oi  casht  another  oye  at  the  tap  of  hers,  fur 
though  there  was  a  bunnit  an  it,  there  wasn't  as  mooch  av 
id  as  id  kape  a  flay  an  a  shkoy  tarrier  from  bein'  sunshtruck, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  'Tell  me,  Mrs.  Magoogin/  sez  she, 
'aren't  yez  afeerd  av  ketchin'  cowld?'  sez  she.  'An'  fur 
fwhy?'  sez  Oi.  'Ye  have  nawthin'  an  yer  head/  says  she. 
Well,  Oi  gev  a  gud  harrud  luk  at  her,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
as  mooch  as  to  say  that  Oi  admoired  her  monumintal  gall 
an'  at  th'  same  toime  to  make  belaif  that  Oi  was  thryin' 
to  f oind  out  fwhat  she  had  an'  her  own  head,  d'ye  see  ?  An' 
upon  me  sowl,  it  id  make  ye  doie  down  dead  wud  laughin* 
me  frind,  to  see  th'  little  thuneen  av  a  bonnit  she  had  an 
th'  tap  av  her  naddle,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Begorry,  aff  id 
wasn't  med  out  av  a  shoeshtring  an'  a  buckle,  may  th' 
divil  bloind  me !  Id  was  wan  av  thim  stoylish  bonnits  that's 
no  bonnit  at  all,  at  all,  me  frind.  Bad  dang  to  me,  but 
aff  anny  wan  was  to  ax  to  sell  me  a  bonnit  that  was  con- 
shtrived  out  av  nawthin'  else  but  a  bowie  knot  an'  a  bit  av 
ribbon,  Oi'd  have  them  lockt  up  in  th'  shtation  house  fur 
thryin'  to  bunco  me  an  false  purtinces,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"So  fwhin  Oi  lukt  at  th'  hot  tongs  head  an'  seen  fwhat 
she  had  an  Oi  sez,  sez  Oi,  'Fwhy  doon't  ye  go  home  yersil* 
an'  put  a  hat  an  aff  it's  so  turribly  cowld  ?'  sez  Oi.  'But  Oi 
have  an  me  bonnit,'  sez  she,  puttin'  up  her  hands  to  see  aff 
th'  fixin's  war  there.  'Thin,  be  gollies,  aff  ye  have,'  sez  Oi, 
'yer  hair  is  shtickin'  up  through  id,'  sez  Oi.  An'  wud  that 
uv'rybody  in  th'  caar  laught  an'  Oi  giv'  them  a  wink  all 
round,  fwhoile  me  foine  lady  blusht,  sed  she  was  insooltid, 
an'  shtopt  th'  caar  an*  got  out. 


296  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

-Throth  'n'  Oi  had  th'  besht  av  her  there,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty.  But  did  ye  uver  see  annythin'  loike  them  noo 
shnips  av  bonnits  ?  They're  loike  necktoies  on  th'  top  av  a 
gurrul's  head.  Me  daughther  Toozy  has  wan  av  thim  an' 
fwhin  Tammy  puts  his  face  through  id  wud  th'  bowie  knot 
reshtin'  andher  his  chin  he  luks  fur  all  th'  wurruld  loike 
Dinny  Gallagher  fwhin  he  has  dipped  his  loilocks  in  a  noo 
bottle  av  hair  die.  Faix  'n'  the  bonnits  kin  be  worn  ayther 
ways,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  th'  tap  av  th'  head  ur  undher 
th'  chin;  they're  as  cute  lukin'  an'  do  as  mooch  gud  wan 
way  as  th'  other,  me  frind.  They  luk  to  me  loike  bonnits 
wud  th'  roof  blown  aff  av  thim,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 


HER  OWN  SEX. 


HER   OWN  SEX. 


WHAT  CONSTITUTES  A  BELLE. 

"Fwhat's  gettin'  into  payple,  at  all,  at  all,  Oi  doon't 
know,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?"  said  the  Widow  Magoogin,  to 
her  neighbor,  as  the  two  swapped  glances  over  the  back 
yard  fence. 

"Fwhy,  f what's  th'  matter  wid  ye  now?"  asked  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty. 

"Divil  a  thing  at  all/'  said  Mrs.  Magoogin.  "But  me 
daughther  Arethoosy  was  readin'  a  bit  out  av  th'  paper 
yestherday  about  th'  way  in  fwhich  th'  young  gerruls 
dhress  nowadays,  an'  be  me  sowl  do  ye  know  they  med  it 
out  that  wan  av  thim  belles,  as  they  calls  thim,  takes  foor 
hours  an'  a  quarther  to  get  into  her  duds  ?  Bad  sesht  to  me 
aff  they  haven't  more  doidoes  an'  gewgaws  to  be  puttin'  an 
thimselves  than  an  Injin  fwhin  he's  gettin'  himsel'  ready 
to  ait  a  missionary.  Oi  doon't  know  fwhere  they  gets  all 
th'  quare  things  that  they  calls  by  all  koinds  of  kewrus 
Frinch  names — wid  their  shemmyzittes  an'  pantylittes  an' 
doiperettes — God  himsel'  only  knows  fwhat  they  does  wid 
thim  or  fwhere  they  puts  thim  all.  For  me  own  part,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  Oi  can  no  more  andherstand  fwhat  they  does 
be  talkin'  about  now  fwhin  they're  dhressin'  thimselves 
than  aff  they  were  afther  spakin'  Graik.  They  doon't  call 

[299] 


300  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

things  be  their  owld  names  at  all  anny  more,  but  they 
Frinch  this  an'  Ditch  that  antil  you'd  think  a  hairpin  was 
a  church  staiple  wid  a  cuckoo  clock  an  it,  an'  an  owld  sock 
that  they  do  be  afther  callin'  hose  was  a  lingth  av  rubber 
that  ye  shkurted  wather  through. 

"Shure  an'  it  ushen'd  to  be  that  way  at  all,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty,  fwhin  you  an'  Oi  war  shparkin.  We  had  no 
fishews  nor  jamboos  nor  jimboes  aither  in  thim  days,  an' 
faix  Oi'm  proud  to  say  that  we  war  uv'ry  bit  as  well  aff  as 
any  gerrul  that  dares  to  walk  th'  shtreets  to-day — yis,  an' 
a  great  dale  betther  aff,  too — fur  it  didn't  taake  us  no  foor 
hours  an'  a  quarther  to  fix  ourselves  up  to  presint  ourselves 
in  th'  parlor.  Oi'll  bet  me  loife  that  any  wan  av  us,  fwhin 
we  heard  wan  av  th'  by's  was  comin'  up  th'  road  to'rds  th' 
house  ud  give  our  faces  a  polish  an'  be  into  our  quilted  pet 
ticoats  an'  red  gowns  in  foor  minnits  an'  a  quarther,  an* 
there's  not  a  hoigh-chuned  gerrul  in  Noo  Yarrick  to-day 
that  we'd  be  afeerd  to  shtand  besoide  av  an'  compate  wid 
aither.  We  had  no  paint  an'  powdher  to  pit  on  our  faces, 
an'  no  bangs  or  Langthry  freezes  to  be  washtin'  our  toime 
wid. 

"Thim  war  th'  gud  owld  days,  God  be  wid  thim  an'  wid 
th'  gud  sinsible  payple  that  lived  in  thim.  Thin  it  wasn't 
th'  clothes  that  med  th'  woman  as  they  do  now — no,  indade 
— a  gerrul  had  to  be  gud  lukin'  or  she'd  moighty  sune  f  oind 
it  out.  My  Dinny  ushed  to  say  to  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
so  he  ushed:  'Berdie,  ye  divil/  he  ushed  to  say,  'aff  it 
wasn't  fur  that  byootiful  face  an'  thim  foine  big  black  oye3 
av  yoors,'  he'd  say,  'that  th'  gud  Lord  gev  ye,'  he'd  say,  'ye'd 
be  in  purty  hard  howlt,  an'  mebbe/  he'd  say,  'it's  pickin' 
petayties  an'  washin'  crubeens  ye'd  be  to  this  day  in  th' 
owld  dart,'  he'd  say,  an'  th'  only  answer  Oi'd  make  him 
was  to  tell  him — the  Lord  have  marcy  an  his  poor  owld 
eowl —  th'  only  answer  Oi'd  make  ud  be  to  say:  'Dinny 


WIDOW    MAGOOGIN.  30! 

Magoogin,  aff  ye  didn't  want  me  there  was  plenty  more 
afther  me/  Oi'd  say,  'that  ud  be  dang  glad  to  get  me/  Oi'd 
say,  'an'  prob'ly  some  av  thim  ud  have  been  a  betther  bar 
gain  fur  me  than  th'  wan  Oi  got/  Oi'd  say,  an'  thin  he'd 
shut  up,  fur  it's  well  he  knew  there  wasn't  a  farmer's 
son  widin  forty  moiles  av  me  father's  place  that  wudn't 
have  cut  off  his  right  hand  to  get  howlt  av  me. 

"But  thim  days'll  come  no  more,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  It 
makes  no  difference  now  aff  a  gerrul  is  crass-oyed  an'  red 
headed,  wid  as  many  freckles  an  her  as  ye  have  yersil',  so 
long  as  she  wears  dimond  air  rings  an'  has  a  goold  watch 
chain  hangin'  down  th'  front  av  her  satin  dhress,  she's  a 
belle,  an'  her  name  goes  into  th'  s'soi'ty  columns  av  th' 
Wurruld  an'  Jurnil  uv'ry  Sunda'.  It's  a  foine  belle  she'd 
be  in  my  part  av  th'  counthry.  Fwhy,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
Oi  have  seen  some  av  thim  yallow-faced  craythures  that 
thraipses  up  an'  down  Foorth  shtreet  an'  that  they  calls 
byooties,  who,  aff  we  had  thim  in  Oireland  in  our  toimes 
there  we'd  put  thim  out  in  th'  corn  fields  at  noight  to 
skeare  th'  crows  away — divil  a  wurrud  av  lie  in  it,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty  ;  that's  all  we'd  think  they  war  fit  fur." 


SWEET  GIRL  GRADUATES. 

"Coom,  coom,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty/'  said  the  Widow  Ma 
googin,  beckoning  hurriedly  to  her  neighbor,  who  hastened 
to  the  front  yard  in  response  to  the  Widow's  invitation. 
"Hurry  an'  have  a  squint  at  her  afore  she  turns  the 
cawrner." 

"It's  Maggie  Rooney, 'isn't  it?"  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  asked, 
as  she  leaned  over  the  palings  to  have  a  good  look  at  the  re 
treating  figure. 

"Faix  'n'  it's  aisy  ye  guessed  it,"  said  the  Widow.    "Yis, 


302  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

it's  Maggie  Rooney,  an'  she  feels  as  proud  as  a  paycock  in 
her  fwhoite  dhress  wud  a  boonch  av  flyowers  here  an'  her 
breasht  as  big  as  a  huckshter  shtan'.  Diz  ye  know  fwhere 
she's  aff  to  now  ?" 

"To  some  boat  escurshin  or  uther,  Oi  shuppose,"  an 
swered  the  neighbor. 

"Aha,  there's  fwhere  ye  shlip  up  in  yer  larnin',  me  f rind," 
tfaid  Mrs.  Magoogin.  "Fur  it's  naither  to  a  boat  escursion 
or  to  a  shkatin'  rink  pecknic  she's  goin',  naither;  but  it's 
to  th'  uxhibition  av  th'  hoigh  shkool,  fwhere  she's  to  grad- 
herayte  this  mawrnin',  aff  ye  plaise,  that's  she's  goin'. 
She'll  gradheryate  to-day  an'  be  a  shkool  teacher  to-morry, 
fwhin  she'll  howld  her  nose  that  hoigh  at  iz,  me  frind,  that 
some  wan  av  iz'll  have  to  break  it  for  her,  maybe,  afore 
she'll  let  it  down  agin.  It's  quare  thawts  that  eddicashun 
pits  into  people's  heads,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Take  my 
Arethoosy,  fur  inshtance.  Didn't  an  owld  red-headed 
froight  wud  a  hole  in  his  vice  that  a  dog  'ould  fall  through 
kum  here  wan  day  fwhin  Oi  waz  out  an'  get  Toozy — she 
wants  all  the  b'ys  an'  gerruls  to  call  her  Toozy  now  bekaso 
she  sez  it  sounds  odd  an'  quare,  an'  uvrythin'  that's  quare 
an'  crazy  loike  is  shtoylish — didn't  Toozy — divil  take  her- 
sel'  an'  her  name — susscroibe  fur  a  shtory  paper  wud  big 
peckthurs  an  the  front  page,  an'  dang  the  red-headed  rascal 
that  sowld  it  to  her,  wasn't  she  troyin'  to  wroite  poethry  a 
few  noights  aftherwards,  an'  didn't  Hinry  an'  her  have 
a  tumble  toime  bekase  he  sed  he'd  suncr  be  catcher  in  a 
baseball  club  than  to  be  a  wroiter  av  songs  or  a  reporther 
on  the  Mercury,  belyow. 

"An'  it's  the  same  way  wud  Maggie  Rooney  an'  the 
resht  av  thim ;  buke  larnin'  turns  their  brain,  an'  they  get 
so  shtuck  up  an'  hoight-chooned  that  th'  ould  b'y  himsel' 
can't  howld  thim ;  an'  they  don't  want  to  recognoise  people 
anny  more  an'  feel  ashamed  av  bein'  poor,  so  they  do. 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  303 

My  shweet  curse  to  the  whole  lot  av  thim,  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty,  fur  it's  the  loikes  av  thim  wud  their  graderyatin' 
an*  their  Latin  an*  Graik  an*  tammymaticks  that  makes 
the  wurld  as  bad  as  it  is  an'  gives  the  divil  all  he  kin  do  to 
kape  thrack  av  its  goin's  on.  Moind  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
I'm  not  begridgin'  th  Rooneys,  or  anny  av  thim,  a  cint's 
wurth  av  f whatuver  they've  got — an'  it's  not  mooch  to  talk 
about  at  anny  rate — fur  Oi  put  it  belyow  me  to  covyet  me 
naybor's  prosperity;  an*  Oi'm  not  sayin'  a  ward  agin 
Paddy  Rooney's  bringin'  in  a  tin  dollar  pianny  into  the 
row  to  be  ann'yin'  the  nayborhud  wud  an  kapin'  our  goats 
fram  their  shleep  at  noights  wud  that  little  shnip  playin' 
jood  music  an  it.  Oi'm  not  sayin'  nawthin*  at  all  about 
that,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  fur  as  ye  knows  it's  none  av  me 
bezniss;  but  Oi  am  shpakin'  about  folks  that  throys  to 
purtind  that  their  shtation  in  loife  is  so  far  hoigher  than 
other  payple's  that  they  keep  their  noses  h'isted  in  th* 
air  as  aff  they  war  all  the  toime  walkin'  an  assyfeddity 
an'  soap-graise. 

"An'  that's  fwhat  the  Rooneys  are  doin',  bad  shcran 
to  thim,  an'  may  the  legs  come  fram  andher  that  leady 
in  the  fwhoite  dhress  an'  the  crowd  have  a  gud  laugh 
at  her  fwhin  she  mounts  the  shtage  to  gradheryate  this 
blessed  mawnin',  as  maybe  that  'Id  take  her  down  a  peg  ur 
two  in  her  own  eshtimation.  Did  you  uver  gradheryate, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  No,  mir  me,  naither;  nur  manny 
more  av  is  naither  that's  betther  nur  the  thrash  that  howlds 
up  their  noses  at  iz.  There's  me  son,  Tammy,  az  yez  all 
calls  the  toof  to ;  he  nuver  gradheryated,  an',  f  what's  more, 
he  nuver  will,  an'  Oi'll  howld  anny  wan  tin  cints  aginst 
a  waggin  load  av  goold  that  he  kin  bait  three  polaicemin 
an*  dhrink  more  shkooners  av  beer  than  anny  noine  grad- 
heryates  in  the  land.  An'  there's  Toozy — ain't  that  a 
shweet  name,  now? — diz  ye  know  fwhat  she  sed  lasht 


304  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

noight?  Well,  she  sed  that  all  the  germls  that  gradher- 
yate  are  shkarecrows  that  shtan'  no  chance  av  gettin'  hus- 
ban's  an'  so  make  school  taichers  out  av  themsePs.  Troth, 
an*  Oi  belayve  she's  roight,  avourneen,  an'  aff  she  izn't 
she's  so  near  to  bein'  roight  that  there's  no  foon  in  it.  Be- 
gorra,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  Oi'm  glad  I  warn't  a  grad- 
heryate  f whin  Oi  war  a  gerrul." 


"Fwhat  in  the  divil's  gittin'  into  th'  womin,  Oi  don't 
know,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?" 

"Ar'  army  av  thim  at  their  doidoes  agin,  Mrs.  Magoo- 
gin?" 

"Ar'  they?  Well,  Oi  shud  boite  an  'yster!  They're 
cuttin'  up  tumble,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Fwhy,  pwhat  ar*  they  doin'  now,  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 

"Doin'?  Fwhy,  woman  aloive,  they're  doin'  iv'rything 
that's  quare  an'  cur'ous  an'  onbecomin',  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,"  said  the  Widow.  "Didn't  ye  hear  tell  av  th'  woman 
that  roides  th'  boicycle  wud  pants  an — not  th'  boicycle 
wud  th'  pants  an,  but  herself  wud  them  an?  An*  not 
long  pants,  ayther,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  thim  zoo-zoo 
pants  that  th'  soldiers  wud  red  legs  wears,  only  her's  was 
rowled  up  abuv  th'  knee  so  that  she  kud  show  th'  shape 
av  her  andhersthandin's,  bad  sesh  to  her!  Musha,  but 
id  take  foire  an*  me  brains  id  be  roashted  fwhere  they 
lank  legs  fwhin  she  has  to  pit  an  zoo-zoo  pants  an'  go 
boicycle  roidin'  in  thim,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Fwhy  in  th' 
name  av  all  that's  pure  an'  howly  dizn't  she  go  an  the 
shtage  in  th'  bally,  fwhere  they  wears  no  pants  at  all, 
at  all,  an'  let  payple  have  a  gud  luk  at  her  legs  aff  they're 
so  all-foired  purty.  It's  a  long  toime  Oi'd  be  thinkm' 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  305 

about  id  afore  Oi'd  show  me  legs  an  a  boicycle,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty.  Bless  iz  an'  pave  iz,  but  Oi  belaive  Oi'd  be 
that  mooch  ashamed  av  meself  that  Oi'd  go  through  th' 
ground,  an'  Oi'd  blish  so  har-r-rd  thet,  begorry,  me  hair 
id  take  foire  an'  me  brains  id  be  ro-ashted  fwhere  they 
ehtand. 

"But  that's  not  all,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Luk  at  th'  owld 
heifers  over  in  Brooklyn  that's  axin'  to  wote.  An'  that 
won't  do  thim,  ayther;  they  wants  to  make  spaiches  an' 
go  around  among  the  woters  makin'  f rinds  av  thim  so  that 
they'll  wote  fur  some  dood  or  other  that's  their  favoroite. 
Sure,  an'  didn't  they  ax  me  to  go  ower  an'  make  spaichea 
fur  thim.  Upon  me  wurrud  they  did!  Divil  a  bit  av 
loie  in  it,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  An'  didn't  Oi  sind  thim 
wurrud  that  aff  wan  av  thim  id  come  ower  an'  do  my 
washin',  an'  cuke  th'  males  fur  Toozy  an'  Tammy  an'  th' 
goat,  an'  see  that  me  place  was  kep  clane  an'  in  ordher, 
Oi'd  be  only  too  happy  to  jine  them  in  their  wurruk  av 
reformin'  th'  counthry  an'  electin'  their  dood  to  office.  Do 
ye  know,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that  they  nuver  sed  yis,  oye 
or  no  to  me  reploy,  but  wan  av  thim,  whose  husban*  is 
goin'  to  get  a  divoasht  because  she's  always  shkoylarkin' 
around  an'  nuver  diz  a  blissid  thing  about  th'  house,  not 
even  to  th'  havin'  av  his  supper  ready  f  whin  he  comes  home 
at  noight,  shtuck  up  her  nose  antf  towlt  me  they  war  all 
hoighly  insooltid  be  me  letther. 

"D'ye  moid  that,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  A  lot  av  owld 
hins  that  ought  to  be  at  home  peelin'  peyaties  ur  shrubbin* 
th'  flyures,  gets  insooltid  because  a  daycint,  shtroivin' 
widdy  woman  can't  affoord  to  let  her  housewurruk  go  fur 
th'  purpose  av  makin'  an  eejiot  av  herself  lukin'  fur  wotes 
fur  some  owld  sore-oyed  dood.  Be  me  sowkins  but  Oi'm 
thinkin'  they're  not  wimmin  at  all,  at  all,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  but  mollycods  av  min  in  dishguoise  wearin'  dhresses 


306  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

an'  shawls  an'  bonnits  because  they're  too  lazy  to  wurruk, 
me  frind.  Th'  oidaya  av  th'  owld  pellikins  wantln'  to 
wote  fwhile  there  ar'  dishes  to  wash  an'  cradles  at  home 
to  rock.  Bad  look  to  thim,  but  Oi'd  wote  thim.  Aff  Oi 
war  their  husban's  Oi'd  pit  pants  on  thim  an*  let  thim 
hang  around  th'  City  Hall  antil  th'  pollyteeshuns  gev 
thim  a  job  clanin'  th'  sthreets  ur  dhrivin'  a  cart,  fur 
that's  all  there  is  in  pollyticks  fur  anny  'annist  woter. 
As  for  me,  Oi'm  out  av  pollyticks  furiver,  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty  I" 


THE  GIRLS  AND  BREACHES   OF  PROMISE. 

"Did  ye  uver  see  so  manny  min  gettin'  into  throuble 
about  women,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 

"Sure  an*  they're  always  gettin'  into  throuble  about 
thim,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Oh,  but  nuver  as  mooch  as  they  ar'  now,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty." 

"Mebbe  id's  because  ye  hear  more  av  id,  ye  think  that, 
Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Troth  'n  that  may  be  so,  too,  me  frind,"  said  the 
Widow,  acquiescingly.  "But  id's  foony  there's  nawthin' 
in  th'  papers  now'days,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  murthers 
an'  sooicoides  fur  love,  an'  big  brokers  roonin'  away  wud 
all  koinds  av  gerruls,  an'  millineryaires  marry  in'  acthresses, 
an  big  shoots  fur  damages  brought  be  damsels  that  kudn't 
howld  an  to  th'  man  fwhen  they  had  him,  but  had  to 
laive  somebody  else  take  him  away,  an'  thin  want  to  go 
in  coort  an'  ax  fur  fifty  an'  a  hundhert  thousan'  dollars 
damages.  An'  be  the  same  token  id's  that  big  shoot  in 
Washin'ton  fwhere  th'  gerrul  is  sooin'  a  kurnel  ur  a 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  307 

gineral  ur  somethin'  av  that  koind  fur  ailin'  an  aitin' 
her  affections  ur  somethin'  av  th'  soort  thet  brought  up 
the  remarruk  Oi  med  ye  about  the  min  gettin'  into  throu- 
ble. 

"She  Avas  a  danged  cute  shlip  of  a  school  gerrul  to  be 
thrapsin'  around  afther  an  owld  fwhoite  headed  fellow 
o\vld  enough  to  be  her  gran'father,  an*  to  say  the  besht 
av  her  bein'  as  cute  as  she  was  to  go  afther  him  and 
catch  him  she  shud  have  had  the  sinse  an'  cunnin'  to 
howld  him.  But  th'  divil's  shkure  to  her,  she  let  another 
woman  take  him  away  fram  her,  an'  id's  danged  little  av 
my  sympathries  she  has  this  sarry  day,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
Yurra,  wurra,  but  the  gerruls  av  th'  prisint  day  is  quare, 
me  frind.  They  don't  saim  to  have  no  shame  in  them 
at  all,  at  all.  They  rin  after  th'  min,  an'  fwhin  they 
don't  ketch  thim  they  haul  th'  poor  pithogues  into  court 
an'  shcandaloize  thimselves  an'  put  redicule  an  th'  min 
antil  th'  whole  town  is  laughin'  at  thim.  Id's  long  sorry 
Oi'd  be  to  laive  another  gerrul  get  ahead  av  me  fwhin  Oi 
had  sit  me  h'art  an  havin'  a  man.  Oi'd  pull  th'  hair 
out  av  her  head  fusht.  Ayther  she'd  bate  the  loife  out 
av  me  or  Oi'd  bate  th'  loife  out  av  her,  an'  thin  begorry 
av  he  was  mane  enoof  to  go  gallyvantin'  around  her  shtill 
bad  sesht  to  me  an*  Oi  wudn't  do  him  up,  too,  into  th* 
bargin.  Oi'd  let  th'  both  av  thim  know  thet  they  warn't 
foolin'  wud  no  painted  craythur  out  av  a  shtory  buke.  An* 
they'd  be  no  braich  av  promise,  naythur — at  laist  it  id 
not  be  brung  be  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty ! 

"Luk  at  th'  shcandaliousness  in  the  Brackenredge  case! 
Th'  papers  is  teemin'  wud  id  uvry  day.  Id's  the  old 
shtory  over  agin.  Put  two  owld  sinners  agin  aich  other 
an'  th'  wurst  av  thim  '11  get  th'  besht  of  th'  other.  No 
gerrul  need  git  ketched  be  a  braich  av  promise  unless 
she  wants  to  git  ketched.  Shmooth  wurruds  and  foine  talk 


308  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

shudn't  lose  anny  woman  her  charrackthur,  an'  the 
smoother  an'  shlicker  th'  talk  th'  more  cause  fer  a  gerrul 
to  keep  her  eyes  opin  an'  to  be  on  her  guard.  There's 
moighty  few  women  that  let's  their  fut  shlip  wudout 
knowin'  parfectly  well  fwhat  they're  doin'.  An'  upon 
me  wurrud  Oi  don't  belave  ould  mother  Eve  was  as  un- 
beknowin'  as  she  let  an  to  be  fwhin  th'  divil  tempted 
her,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  We're  all  woise  enoof  fwhin 
we  want  to  be,  me  frind,  an'  there's  none  av  iz  aitin' 
apples  that  dizn't  belong  to  iz,  ur  havin'  braich  of  promise 
shoots  anless  we  wants  to. 

"Thet's  fwhat  Oi  was  tellin'  me  daughter  Toozy  this 
mawrnin'  fwhin  we  war  talkin'  about  that  case  that's  in 
th'  papers.  'Oh,  mimmaw!'  sez  she,  'how  kud  you  be 
so  cruel  an'  mane?'  sez  she.  'Fwhere's  the  mainness, 
Toozy,  me  darlint  ?'  sez  Oi.  Twhy,  mimmaw,  ye  know  id's 
always  th'  man's  fault?'  sez  she.  'So  they  always  sez,' 
sez  Oi,  *but  mosht  av  thim  sez  id  too  late  to  have  it  be- 
laived,'  sez  Oi.  No  gemil  helps  her  charrackthur  anny 
be  a  braich  av  pramise  shoot.  Begorry  as  owld  as  Oi 
am,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Oi'd  have  to  be  afther  takin'  laive 
av  me  sinses  to  bring  a  braich  av  pramise  agin  anny  man. 
Oi'd  be  long  sarry  to  let  th'  wurruld  know  that  Oi'd  bin 
med  sooch  a  fool  av,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 


THE  SUMMER  GIRL. 

"Arrah,  my,  but  it's  hot,  isn't  it,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?" 

"Yis,  indade,  it  is,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"It's  that  hot  that  the  perspication  is  rowlin'  down 
me  back,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Faix  'n  Oi'm  purty  hot  meself,  Mrs.  Magoogin.  Oi 
think  the  summer  is  here  on  top  av  iz  at  lasht."  . 


WIDOW    MAGOOGIN.  309 

"That's  fwhat  it  is,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow, 
with  a  decisive  nod  of  her  head.  "An'  talkin'  about  the 
hot  weather,  did  ye  uver  hear  so  much  blather  an'  bother 
as  they  diz  be  afther  havin'  now  about  fwhat  they  calls 
the  summer  gerrul.  Upon  me  sowl,  Oi  nuver  knew  fwhat 
they  maned  be  the  summer  gerrul  antil  me  daughther, 
Toozy,  towld  me  that  id  was  thim  gerruls  that  dhress 
thimsel's  up  in  lawns  an'  laces  an'  airy  hats,  an'  spinds 
their  toime  be  the  say  shore  on  Cooney's  Oisland  an* 
breaks  the  h'arts  av  the  joods  that  ar5  down  there  wid 
twinty  cints  in  their  pockets  an'  not  more  than  a  half 
daycint  mail  in  their  shtummicks. 

"Th'  poets  wroites  verses  about  the  summer  gerrul,  and 
the  noospapers  prints  all  koinds  av  nonsinse  about  her. 
Wan  id  think  she  was  a  queen  be  the  way  they  goes  an 
about  her.  Oi've  seen  plinty  av  thim  summer  gerruls, 
an'  begorry  Oi  nuver  thought  there  was  the  laist  thing 
scrumptious  ur  byootiful  about  her.  The  wans  Oi  saw 
an  th'  boat  goin'  to  Cooney's  Oisland  was  floighty,  giddy- 
brained  craythures,  always  an  the  smash  an'  not  very 
mooch  ashamed  av  bein  'seen  in  a  crowd  wid  a  good-sized 
jag  an.  Some  av  thim  luked  as  aff  a  gud  puff  av  wind 
id  blow  thim  aff  the  face  av  the  airth.  They're  loike 
the  flyowers  that  bloom  in  the  shpring,  thra-la.  They 
come  wid  th'  warrum  weather  an'  go  away  fwhin  the  shnow 
begins  to  floy.  There's  nawthin'  to  thim  but  a  handful 
av  paint  an'  powdher  an'  mishkitty  bar,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
an'  the  oidaya  av  makin'  so  mooch  fuss  about  thim — id's 
enoof  to  make  a  healthy  woman  sick.  Summer  gerruls? 
Fwhat  nonsinsicality,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty!  Now,  who  in 
the  wurruld  wants  a  gerrul  jisht  fur  th'  summer  toime? 
Aff  a  man  wants  a  gerrul  at  all,  at  all,  he  wants  her  fur 
both  winter  an'  summer,  dizn't  he  ?  an'  not  be  galivantin' 


3IO  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

about  wid  her  three  months  in  th'  year  an'  sittin*  in  a 
corner  suckin'  his  thumb  fur  th'  other  noine  months. 

"Oi  don't  think  mooch  av  thim,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an' 
it's  foolish  fur  me  to  be  wastin'  me  spaich  on  thim.  Oi'd 
not  be  a  summer  gerrul  fur  nobody,  so  Oi  wudn't,  wearin' 
all  soorts  av  gewgaws  an'  pittin'  an  all  soorts  av  airs,  to 
be  pinted  at  an'  have  all  soorts  av  poithry  wrote  about 
ye.  Xo,  sirree,  Bob ;  they  may  say  f what  they  plaze  about 
Berdie  Magoogin,  but  bad  sesht  to  the  man,  woman  ur 
choild  that  kin  tell  a  sowl  that  this  daycint  widdy  woman 
wuz  uver  anything  loike  a  summer  gerrul." 


THE  CHAPERONE. 

"Yarra,  ho,  ho !    but  Oi  was  med  the  fool  av  yistherda', 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 

"Is  id  you  med  a  fool  av,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 
"Yis,  me,  mesel',  Mrs  McGlaggerty." 
"An'  who  was  id  med  a  fool  av  ye,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 
"Oh,  nobody  in  partecklir,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty;  jisht  a 
little  flibberty-jibbet  av  a  craythure  up  here  an  Mat'son 
avenoo  abow,"  said  the  Widow.  "An'  how  was  id  ?  Aisy 
enoof,  be  gollies,  fwhin  ye  come  to  luk  id  shtraight  in  th' 
face,  me  frind.  Aisy's  no  wurrud  fur  id,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty.  Id  was  that  shlick,  upon  me  sowl,  that  to  save  me 
sivin  sinses  Oi  kudn't  tell  ye  now  how  id  all  kem  about, 
ur  fwhat  put  it  in  me  head  to  do  id  at  all,  at  all,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty.  To  make  a  long  shtory  short  though,  Oi 
heard  it  read  in  th'  papers  that  up  an  Mat'son  av'noo  there 
was  an  office  f  where  chappy  roanies  kud  be  had  fur  th' 
axin'  av  thim.  Fwhin  Oi  was  in  sassoity,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  chappyroanies  war  all  the  go — they  tuk  th'  ladies 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  31 1 

to  parties  an'  theaythers  an'  oice  craim  saloons,  an*  id 
didn't  cosht  the  gerruls  a  rid  cint.  Oi  remembered  that 
fwhin  Oi  hurd  about  the  chappyroanies  on  Mat'son  av'noo, 
so  Oi  sed  to  mesel'  that  Oi'd  go  up  there  an'  have  a  bit 
av  a  fwhurl  wid  a  chappyroany  fur  an  aivenin'  goin'  to 
th'  Cassino  an'  serkus  an'  all  th'  doime  musseems  on  th' 
Bow'ry,  an'  mebbe  tak'  in  an  'ysther  shtew  an'  a  porter 
house  shteak  be  way  av  a  noight  cap  afore  Oi  kem  home. 

"So  up  Oi  wint  to  th'  Mat'son  av'noo  office  an'  axed  fur 
a  chappyroany,  do  ye  moind,  Mrs.  McGlaggcrty,  an'  fwhat 
do  ye  think  th'  dang'd  owld  divil  av  a  chappyroanier 
wanted  to  give  me  ?  A  woman !  Some  owld  pelikin  av 
a  craythure  that  know'd  no  more  than  mesel',  an'  fur  that 
matther  purhaps  a  great  dail  less.  Th'  oidaya !  Me  bein' 
chappyroanied  all  over  Noo  Yarruk  be  a  woman,  havin'  to 
pay  her  fare  in  th'  harse  cars  an'  buy  her  sod}r  wather 
at  uv'ry  dhrug  shtore  we  come  acrass.  Ton  me  wurrud, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Oi  was  parryloized  fwhin  they  towld 
me  id  to  me  face.  'Id  '11  cosht  ye  foive  dollars  fur  th' 
chappyroany,'  sez  they.  'Divil  th'  foive  dollars  id  '11  cosht 
me,'  sez  Oi,  'ur  th'  foive  cints,  aither,'  sez  Oi.  'An'  fur 
fwhy?'  sez  they.  'Fur  fwhy  an'  because  Oi  wudn't  have 
nawthin'  to  do  wid  yer  faymale  chappyroany,'  sez  Oi.  'Oi 
wants  a  chappyroany  that  has  pants  an  an*  money  in 
aich  pockit  av  them,'  sez  Oi.  'Oh,  that's  diffrunt,'  sez 
they.  'Ye  bet  yer  tooty-frooty  loife  id's  diffrunt,'  sez  Oi, 
an'  out  Oi  walked  wudout  sayin'  another  wurrud,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty. 

"Oi  was  nuver  more  takin'  back  in  all  me  loife.  Fwhat 
nonsinse  '11  be  gettin'  up  next,  Oi  wondher.  Faymale 
chappyroanies  indade !  Oi'd  loike  to  see  wan  av  thim 
sandbagged  some  noight  an'  thin  mebbe  they'd  quit  inter- 
fairin*  wnd  th'  rale  an*  th'  only  bony-foidy  chappyroanies 


312  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

— th'  min,  God  bless  thim,  and  long  loife  to  thim  wan  and 
all,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !  Don't  you  say  so,  too,  me  f rind  ?; 
To  be  coorse  ye  do  I" 


SHE  IS  FOR  EQUAL  RIGHTS. 

"Did  ye  soign  th'  payteeshin,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?" 
"Fwhat  payteeshin,  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 
"Th'  payteeshin  fur  aiquil  roights,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 
"Aiquil  roights  fur  fwhat,  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 
"Fwhy,  fur  wimmin,  to  be  coorse/'  said  the  Widow, 
wondering  at  the  ignorance  of  her  neighbor.  "Don't  ye 
know  they're  serkewliatin'  a  big  paper  axin'  the  Mare 
ur  the  Governor,  ur  whouver  has  th'  doin'  av  id,  to  give 
wimmin  aiquil  roights  wid  th'  min  ?  Aiquil  suffrage,  they 
calls  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi  don't  know  very  mooch 
about  it,  me  frind,  but  me  daughter  Toozy  has  tuk  up 
th'  thing  because  the  hoigh-chooned  ladies  up  an  Fift* 
avenoo  abow  has  jined  together  to  give  id  a  fashionable 
boom,  so  to  spake,  d'ye  see,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  An'  so 
she  has  a  payteeshin  that  long  for  payple  to  put  their 
names  down  on,  an'  Oi'm  shupproised  that  she  hasn't  bin 
in  to  see  you  an'  yer  Jurry  to  get  yer  sertifickets  to  id. 
She  sez  ev'rybody's  goin'  to  soign  id  an'  thin  fwhin  id's  all 
soigned  an'  sint  in  to  th'  Governor  ur  the  Mare  aiquil 
roights  will  be  divoided  bechuxt  uv'rybody,  an'  th' 
min  '11  be  as  gud  as  the  wimmin  an'  th'  wimmin. 
'11  be  as  gud  as  th'  min,  d'ye  moind,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty.  Fwhat  diz  id  mane,  ar'  ye  af ther  axin'  ?  Divil 
th'  wan  av  me  knows,  uxcept  that  id's  goin'  to  give  iz  all 
a  wote,  an'  thin  begorry  you  an'  me  an'  th'  resht  av  th' 
ladies  '11  be  able  to  airn  $2  ar  Election  Day  th'  same  as 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  313 

thim  Dagoes  an'  Ditchmin  diz,  an'  as  my  man  Dinny 
did,  God  resht  his  sowl!  afore  he  had  th'  breath  pult  out 
av  him  be  th'  Angel  Gabreel,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"That's  fwhat  aiquil  roights  manes,  me  frind,  though 
fwhat  Mrs.  Vandherbilk  an'  Mrs.  Asthor  an'  all  them 
millineryairs  wants  to  be  sellin'  their  wotes  fur  two  dol 
lars  fur,  as  aff  they  war  poor  divils  loike  ourselves,  is  more 
nor  yoors  throoly  kin  andhershtand.  But  thim  rich  folks 
ar'  th'  greedy,  graspin'  lot,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  they're 
reachin'  out  fur  uv'ry  dollar  that  they  kin  get,  an'  Oi 
have  no  doubt  thet  they're  in  this  payteeshinin'  bezniss 
loike  the  resht  av  iz,  fur  th'  dusht  there  iz  in  id.  That's 
th'  roights  av  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  th'  suffragin'  part 
Oi  don't  loike.  Oi've  got  all  th'  sufferin'  now  that  Oi 
want.  Anny  more  av  id,  loike  the  barn  that  fell  on  Con 
O'Mara's  cow,  id  break  me  boick.  Oi'm  not  shtuck  on 
sufferin'.  Oi  can't  shtand  id.  Me  an'  sufferin'  are  mor- 
tial  inimies,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  Oi  hope  an'  pray  that 
thet  part  av  the  law  '11  not  be  pasht,  me  frind.  Thim 
Fift'  avenoo  ladies  may  purtind  thet  they  want  to  suffer, 
but,  marruk  my  wurruds,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  aff  anything 
comes  av  this,  an'  there's  anny  sufferin'  to  be  done  an 
Election  Day,  ur  anny  other  day,  they  '11  ax  to  be  ushcused, 
an'  sind  down  wurrud  that  they're  not  at  home.  An* 
begorries,  Oi'll  do  th'  same  thing  meself,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty.  Aiquil  roights  is  all  roight  an'  so  is  $2  aich  fur 
our  wotes — but  es  fur  th'  other — well,  th'  min  ar'  big  an* 
oogly  an'  shtrong  enough — let  thim  do  th'  sufferin',  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty." 


314  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 


SOME  QUEER  WOMEN. 

"It's  the  quare  women  we  do  be  afther  havin'  nowadays, 
Mrs.  Glaggerty." 

"Begorry,  ye're  roight,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"The  goin's  on  av  some  av  thim  is  simply  shameful, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Oi  know  id — Oi  know  id,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Take  thim  women  that  calls  themsel's  farmers,  for 
inshtance,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty/'  said  the  Widow,  whose  talk 
was  directed  against  the  would-be  reformers.  "Their 
tongues  ar'  goin'  fram  mornin'  antil  noight  loike  the  clap 
per  ov  a  bell.  Aff  id's  not  foindin'  fault  wud  this  wan 
id's  wud  that,  an'  to  lishten  to  thim  ye'd  think  they  war 
the  Angel  Gabreel  himsel',  sint  to  blow  his  horn  an' 
whurrul  ivery  mother's  son  av  iz  into  foire  an'  brimshtone 
an'  purpaytiial  darkniss,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Upon  me 
eowl,  they  give  me  a  pain  in  the  nick,  as  my  b'y  Tammy 
sez  fwhin  annythin'  dizn't  uxactly  shoot  him.  Oi  nuver 
heard  tell  av  the  loikes  av  thim  afore  in  all  me  born  days. 
Be  the  powers,  but  Oi  think  the  whole  danged  wurruld 
is  goin'  crazy,  an'  thim  women  farmers,  as  they  calls  thim- 
Bel's,  is  at  the  head  av  th'  purcession  in  front  av  the  foifes 
an'  dhrums,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  The  noospapers  is  full 
av  their  impty  nonsinse  uv'ry  day. 

"Wan  owld  curly-kewed  pelican  sez  it's  a  sin  an'  a  dish- 
grace  to  wear  cossits,  an'  no  daycint  woman  id  do  it  that 
has  anny  regard  fur  hersel'.  Another  Madame-in-ordjer 
tells  iz  that  the  six  wants  a  hoigher  spere  than  it's  now 
occupyin'.  Another  wants  uv'ry  woman  to  wote.  An 
other  wants  iz  all  to  wear  farmer's  dhresses  that  don't 
fall  belyow  the  knees.  Some  av  thim,  begorry,  wants  iz 


WIDOW    MAGOOGIN.  315 

to  wear  pants,  so  that,  Oi  shuppose,  we  kin  scratch  matches 
on  the  legs  av  thim  fwhin  we  want  to  loight  the  foire  in 
the  mornin'.  An',  dang  my  buttons,  aff  there's  annythin' 
we  diz  now  that  in  annyway  shoots  thim.  They're  out 
uv'ry  day  at  meetin's  an'  talkin'  matches  an'  the  chin- 
chinnin'  they  do  be  havin'  is  enoof  to  sind  a  poll  parrot 
to  the  inseane  asoylum.  The  latesht  owld  crank  is  a 
chromeo  named  Willard  that  hangs  out  over  in  Boshton. 
Her  nose  is  in  the  air  bckase  women  roides  the  boycycles 
an'  v'locepaids.  Oi  shuppose  she  hurd  that  Oi  was  takiri' 
lessins,  an'  mebbe  she's  that  owld  an'  onsupple,  she  can't 
roide  hersel'  an's  she's  jealous,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Anny 
way,  she's  furninst  boycycle-roidin',  an'  she's  wearin'  her 
wheezy  owld  lung  out  talkin'  about  id.  Bad  sesht  to  her, 
it's  a  pity  somebody  didn't  come  along  that's  not  particu 
lar  fwhat  happins  to  him  an'  marry  her  an'  give  her  some- 
thin'  to  do  besoides  pokin'  her  nose  into  other  folkses 
bizness.  My  advoice  to  her  is  to  close  her  thrap  an'  go  an* 
loie  down  somewhere  wud  the  goats. 

"The  women  that  wants  to  roide  boycycles  '11  roide 
thim  fwhether  or  no,  an'  they  '11  give  no  thanks  to  that 
Boshton  catamaran,  aither.  So  it  is  wud  the  women  that 
wants  cossits  or  annythin'  else;  they  '11  have  thim  in 
shpoite  av  the  farmers,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  But  do  ye 
know  fwhat  Oi'm  afther  thinkin',  me  frind?  Thim 
shcare-crows  that  calls  themsel's  farmers,  an'  thinks  their 
talk  '11  turn  Noo  Yarrick  city  into  a  fusht-class  heavin, 
is  a  job  lot  av  women  that  have  bin  disappinted  in  loife, 
an'  loike  the  fox  in  the  shtory  wud  his  tail  cut  off,  they're 
thryin'  to  make  the  resht  av  the  wurruld  uvry  bit  as 
mis'rible  as  thimsel's.  Bad  look  to  their  peckthurs,  but 
Oi'd  loike  to  have  a  phottj'graft  av  the  whole  caboodle  av 
thim.  Talk  about  rain-makin'  masheens !  They'd  not 
be  in  id  wud  me.  All  Of  d  have  to  do  id  be  to  howld  that 


3l6  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

phottygraft  av  thim  women  farmers  up  to  a  broight  shky 
an'  aff  there  wouldn't  be  overcashtin'  clouds  an'  a  torrint 
av  rain  in  two  suckonds,  Oi'd  ait  that  owld  log  cabin 
quilt  that's  on  Tammy's  lounge  in  the  kitchin.  Upon  me 
sowl  Oi  wud,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 


SHOULD  WOMEN  USE  TOBACCO? 

"Have  ye  air  a  cigarootie  about  ye  annyfwheres,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty  ?" 

"An'  fur  fwhy  do  ye  ax  me  such  a  kustion,  Mrs.  Ma- 
googin  ?" 

"Bekase  Oi  thawt  Oi'd  thry  wan  av  thim  an'  see  aft' 
it  id  kill  me,"  said  the  Widow  Magoogin.  "My  b'y  Tammy 
towld  me  that  a  lad  av  his  own  age  over  an  Mad'son. 
avenoo  abow  killed  himse'  be  shmokin'  cigarooties,  and  it 
jisht  inthered  my  moind  that  Oi'd  loike  to  see  aff  th'  b'y 
was  lyin'  to  me  ur  no.  An'  for  this  raison,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty  :  Do  ye  know  that  th'  ladies  ar'  thinkin'  about 
intherjuicin'  th'  ushe  av  toboicky  into  sassoiety?  They 
had  great  goin's  an  about  id  th'  other  day,  fwhin  Imily 
Choives  Ranler  an'  Elly  Fwheeler  Chinbox,  an'  a  lot  av 
other  prominint  faymale  Dimmycracks  that  goes  about 
kissin'  min  an'  thin  wroitin'  songs  about  how  gud  it  feels 
to  be  shlobbered  over,  sed  they  war  in  favor  of  havin' 
cigars  med  shweeter  an'  poipes  med  more  aisthetique  so 
that  wimmin  kud  shmoke  them.  'Fwhat's  the  ushe  of 
laivin'  the  min  have  all  the  fun?'  they  sed;  'aff  there 
is  anny  inj''ymint  to  be  had  out  av  toboicky,  th'  ladies  are 
intoitled  to  their  share  av  id,'  they  sed,  an'  so,  lo  an'  be 
hold  ye,  they  pasht  a  reshtitution  sayin'  that  wimmin  ought 
to  have  all  her  roights,  an'  wan  av  thim  was  a  roight  to 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  317 

shtand  an  th'  hoind  ind  av  th'  shtreet  cars  an'  blyow  to- 
boicky  shmoke  in  th'  face  av  all  creation. 

"God  help  iz,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  id's  a  quare 
wurruld  we're  livin'  in,  me  frind,  fwhin  th'  ladies  have  to 
shtick  dudheens  into  their  gobs  to  make  thimsePs  happy. 
My  Tammy  don't  loike  th'  oidaya  aither.  He  sez  there's 
inguns  enoof  on  foire  in  the  wurruld  without  havin'  th' 
dames  an'  fairies,  as  Tammy  calls  iz,  burnin'  thim,  too. 
Inguns  is  the  nominclaythure  av  th'  Bow'ry  fur  five-cint 
cigars,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi'd  give  tin  dollaars  this 
blessid  minnit  to  see  Elly  Fwheeler  Chinbox  sasshayin' 
down  Broadway  wud  a  groc'ry  shtore  cigar  in  th'  cawrner 
av  her  face  an'  she  thryin'  to  shpit  acrass  the  ind  av  her 
chin  into  th'  middle  av  th'  car-thracks.  TJr  Oi'd  give 
twinty  dollars  to  see  her  thry  to  scratch  a  match  an  the 
balloon  jib  av  her  bushtle.  Oi'll  howld  ye  any  amount 
she  kudn't  do  id  widout  settin'  foire  to  her  sailshkin 
sacque  an',  mebbe,  burnin'  up  th'  whole  town. 

"Divil  pull  th'  appetoite  out  av  thim,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
but  aff  they  want  to  ushe  toboicky  fwhy  in  th'  name  av 
all  thet's  gud  an'  howly  don't  they  talk  abowt  aitin'  toboicky 
as  well  as  shmokin'  toboicky,  Oi  don't  know!  To  be 
course  aff  toboicky  comes  into  shtoyle  Oi'll  have  cigar- 
ooties  an'  poipes  at  me  foive  o'clock  tays,  th'  same  as  they 
have  thim  at  th'  wakes;  but  that's  not  all,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty  ;  Oi'll  have  f oine  cut  an'  plug  toboicky  an  th'  soide- 
boord,  too,  an'  anybody  that  wants  a  chaw  '11  be  welcome 
to  id.  Oi  tell  ye,  me  frind,  there's  foine  toimes  ahead 
av  iz.  Wan  av  these  byootiful  noights  Oi'm  goin'  to  th' 
theayter  wud  tin  cints  worth  av  aitin'  toboicky  in  me  hand, 
an  Oi'll  shkurt  toboicky  jooce  an  the  parkay  fiyure  in  a 
way  that'll  make  some  av  thim  joods  sick.  Nuver  moind 
me,  Mrs  McGlaggerty,  aff  Oi  don't !" 


3l8  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 


A  WOMAN  WITH  THEEE  HUNDRED  DRESSES. 

"D'ye  know  fwhat,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 

"Faix  'n  Oi  do  not,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Well,  thin,  Oi'll  tell  ye." 

"Do,  thin,  an'  my  thanks  to  ye,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Troth  'n  Oi  will,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty/'  said  the  Widow. 
"D'ye  know  that  Oi  was  wantin'  to  go  to  Saratogy  fur  a 
few  days  to  shpind  a  little  toime  wud  th'  bong  tongs  an* 
th'  upper  Foor  Hundher,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  Oi  was 
jisht  afther  tellin'  Tammy — an'  may  God  give  him  sinse 
afore  he  gets  mooch  owldher,  fur  a  crazier  lunyattico  av  a 
hair-brained  little  oansha  Oi  nuver  sot  eyes  an — Oi  was 
jisht  afther  tellin'  him  to  go  down  in  th'  cellar  an'  impty 
the  half  bushel  av  petayties  that  was  in  th'  owld  carpit 
sack  belyow,  bekase  Oi  wanted  to  pack  a  few  av  me  duda 
into  fwhin  in  waltzed  Toozy  wid  her  Miss  Doido  noshins 
an'  sez  to  me,  sez  she:  'Fwhere  in  th'  name  av  all  that's 
consequintial  an'  upsinoctial,  mimmaw,'  sez  she,  'ar'  ye 
thinkin'  av  goin'?'  sez  she.  'Faix  'n  id's  not  thinkin' 
at  all,  Oi'm  doing',  sez  Oi,  'but  id's  goin'  Oi  am  to  Sara 
togy,'  sez  Oi,  'to  show  me  shape,'  sez  Oi,  'and  backboite  me 
neighbors  like  th'  resht  av  th'  hoigh-chooned  ducks  diz/ 
sez  Oi,  at  the  same  time  givin'  her  a  shkint  out  av  th  cawr- 
ner  av  me  eye  as  mooch  as  to  say  to  her:  'Now,  me  foine 
leady,  fwhat  have  ye  got  to  say  to  that  ?'  'Oh,  mimmaw !' 
sez  she,  shtretchin'  her  mouth  loike  a  fish  that's  gaspin' 
fur  a  dhrink  av  wather — 'Oh,  mimmaw !'  sez  she ;  'don't 
you  think  av  doin'  any  such  thing,'  sez  she.  'An'  fwhy 
not  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Bekase,'  sez  she,  'there  ar'  wimmin  up  there 
at  Saratogy,  mimmaw,'  sez  she,  'that  has  three  hundhert 
dhresses  to  wear,'  sez  she,  'an'  fwhat  wud  you  luk  loike 


WIDOW   MAGOOG1N. 

up  there  among  thim  wud  yer  owld  brocaded  silk  an'  yer 
tin  cint  a  yard  flyowered  sateen  ?'  sez  she.  'Fwhat  wud  Oi 
luk  loike  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Begorry/  sez  Oi,  'Oi'd  Ink  loike  f what 
Oi  am,  anny  way/  sez  Oi,  'a  purfeck  lady !'  sez  Oi.  'Yis, 
but  ye  haven't  three  hundher'  dhresses/  sez  she.  'No/ 
sez  Oi,  'nor  Oi  wudn't  know  fwhat  to  do  wud  thim  aff  Oi 
had  half  as  many/  sez  Oi.  'But  id's  shtoylish,  now,  mini- 
maw/  sez  she,  'fur  s'soity  ladies  at  the  wattherin'  places 
to  have  a  great  many  dhresses/  sez  she.  'Oh,  it  is,  is 
id?'  sez  Oi,  'well,  thin/  sez  Oi,  'Oi'll  have  to  roise  the 
proice  av  th'  boord  fur  yersel'  an'  Hinnery  an'  the  baby- 
to  three  an'  a  half  a  week  anshtead  av  three/  sez  Oi,  'fur 
id's  divil  the  few  dhresses  Oi  kin  buy  afther  feedin'  all 
av  ye  wud  th'  three  dollars  Oi'm  gettin'  out  av  ye  now/ 
sez  Oi;  'an'  annyhow/  sez  Oi,  'id's  not  dhresses  that's 
botherin'  me  at  all,  at  all/  sez  Oi,  'bud  somethin'  to  pit 
into  the  pockits  av  thim/  sez  Oi.  'But  ye'll  have  to  have 
dhresses  to  go  to  Saratogy,  mimmaw/  sez  me  daughther. 
'To  be  coorse  Oi  will,  me  darlint/  sez  Oi.  'Sure  'n  ye 
doon't  fur  a  minnit  think  that  Oi'm  goin'  in  me  pelt, 
do  ye?'  sez  Oi.  'Oh,  mimmaw!  ain't  ye  ashamed  to 
talk  that  way  ?'  sez  she.  'Deed  'n  Oi'm  not/  sez  Oi ;  'not 
anny  more  ashameder  than  Oi'd  be  to  lug  three  hoondher' 
dhresses  wud  me/  sez  Oi,  'an'  spind  me  toime  thryin'  to 
wear  thim/  sez  Oi.  'Oi'll  howld  ye  tin  cints,  Toozy/  sez 
Oi,  'that  that  woman  that  has  the  three  hoondhert  dhresses 
is  a  dark  in  Macy's  ur  Simpson's  an  Sixt'  av'noo  abow, 
an'  that  they  '11  have  the  dhresses  back  an  the  shelves  av 
th'  shtore  fwhin  she  gets  through  wearin'  thim/  sez  Oi. 
May  the  divil  admoire  her,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  id's 
the  montimintal  gall  she  diz  be  afther  havin'  to  shwing 
her  tail  at  daycint,  hannest  payplo  that  haves  but  wan 
uf  two  sets  av  duds  to  their  backs,  simply  bekase  she  kin 
dhress  herseP  up  tin  ur  twinty  toimes  a  day.  Sorra  the 


320  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

thawt  you  nur  me  id  have  av  dhressin'  oursel's  more  than 
wanst  a  day,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  aivin  aff  we  had  foive  hun 
dred  dhresses — wud  we,  me  frind?  Not  mooch,  Mary 
Ann.  Bad  sesh  to  me,  but  Oi  can't  fur  the  loife  av  me 
see  fwhat  in  the  wurruld  the  woman  kin  do  wud  three 
hundher'  dhresses.  Aff  it  was  you  ur  me,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  though,  we  know  fwhat  we'd  do  wud  thim — we'd 
pit  thim  in  the  pawn,  asthore,  and  get  enoof  an  thim  to 
buy  iz  a  gud  load  av  coal  fur  th'  winther — wudn't  we 
now,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?  You  bet  yer  nick  we  wud  !" 


MATRIMONY. 


MATRIMONY. 


MARRIAGE  IS  NOT  A  FAILURE. 

"Fwhin  war  ye  married,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 

"Thurty-two  year  ago  comin'  nuxt  Winsda',  Mrs.  Ma- 
googin?" 

"An'  fwhat  d'ye  think  av  id,  anny  way?'* 

"Fwhat  diz  Oi  think  av  fwhat?" 

"Av  married  loife." 

"Faix  'n  Oi  don't  think  av  id  at  all,  Mrs.  Mcgoogin.  I 
takes  id  as  it  coomes." 

"But  say,  d'ye  think  that  marriage  is  a  failure,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty  ?" 

"Divil  a  failure  as  far  as  Oi'm  consarned,  Mrs.  Ma- 
googin." 

"No,  nur  as  far  as  Oi'm  consarned,  aither,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty,"  said  the  Widow.  "My  Dinny — God  be  gud  to 
his  mimory,  fur  he  was  th'  foine  an'  dacint  man  intoirely 
— my  Dinny  kicked  the  buckit  an'  wint  to  shovin'  clouds 
an'  sawin'  sunbaims,  as  Tammy  sez,  over  tin  year  ago,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  an'  there's  nuver  bin  a  day  nur  a  noight 
since  that  Oi  haven't  mist  him  an'  wished  that  he  war 
aloive  agin.  We  had  a  bit  av  a  shcrappin'  match  now  an* 
thin,  an'  it's  more  than  wanst  Oi  laid  him  out  cowld  on 
the  flyure  wud  a  pittaty  poundher  an'  ruz  a  lump  on  his 
forrud  the  soize  av  a  duck's  egg,  but  fur  all  that  we  had 

[323] 


324  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

a  noice  an'  pleasant  an'  agrayable  loife  together,  an'  there 
warn't  a  happier  home  this  soide  av  th'  Aist  river.  Fwhy, 
th'  noight  afther  Toozy  war  born'd  Dinny  kem  home  wid 
his  load  an'  thried  to  dhroive  meseP  an'  me  sister  Kate 
out  into  th'  dhriv'lin'  shnow.  He  had  th'  harrurs,  so 
he  had,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  he  wuz  loike  a  ravin' 
maniac,  so  he  wuz.  'Sit  down  an'  kape  quoite,  Dinny,' 
sez  Oi  to  him.  'Sit  down  nawthin','  sez  he;  'Oi  want 
the  Pope  av  Home  to  coome  out  in  the  back  yard  antil 
Oi  pit  a  head  an  him,'  sez  he.  He  was  out  av  his  sinses, 
d'ye  moind,  ur  he  wudn't  a-talked  in  that  way,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty.  'Be  aisy,  Dinny,'  sez  Oi,  reshtrainin'  him 
loike.  'Go  to  th'  divil/  sez  he.  Wud  that  Oi  lifted  a 
kippin  av  wood  that  was  reshtin'  behoind  th'  shtove  an' 
gev  him  a  lally cooler  an'  th'  hoind  ind  av  th'  head  wid 
id  that  laid  his  shkull  opin  fur  foor  inches,  an'  there 
wuz  no  more  sed  about  fwhippin  th'  Pope  ur  seein'  shnakes 
crawlin'  up  th'  shtovepoipe. 

"That's  th'  way  we  settled  dishputes  in  th'  Magoogin 
family  in  thim  days.  An'  as  fur  our  married  loife,  naithcr 
Dinny  nur  meseP  nuver  hcd  air  a  thing  to  complain  av, 
an'  wid  iz  marriage  was  the  biggest  koind  av  a  shuccess. 
Thim  wimmin  that's  wroitin'  to  th'  papers  about  marri'ge 
bein'  a  failure  an'  all  that  makes  me  sick.  Fwhat  diz 
they  let  it  be  a  failure  fur?  Fwhy  doon't  they  make  it  a 
success  loike  Oi  did?  Give  me  howlt  av  somethin'  noice 
an'  heavy  that  Oi  kin  handle  aisy  an'  there  isn't  a  marri'd 
man  from  here  to  Ballinasloe  that  Oi'll  not  make  come 
down  aff  his  hoigh  horse  aff  he  thries  anny  av  his  moonkey 
moonks  wid  me.  Marriage  is  no  failure,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  fwhin  Berdie  Magoogin  is  around.  No,  sirree !" 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  325 


TURNING  OUT  A  BABY. 

"Did  ye  see  me  Cousin  Nora's  baby,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 
the  Widow  Magoogin  asked. 

"Oi  did  not.  Oi'm  sorry  ye  didn't  call  me  in  whin  she 
was  here,"  the  neighbor  answered. 

"Oi  mint  to,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow,  "but 
Nora  god  mad  about  a  little  bit  av  foon  that  my  Tammy 
was  pokin'  at  her  about  the  choild  an'  wint  away  in  a  huif 
afore  annybody  kud  shtop  her." 

"I  suppose  Tammy,  loike  the  little  toof  that  he  is,  in- 
Boolted  the  poor  gerrul,"  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  suggested. 

"Well,  thin,  ye  shuppose  wrang,  me  frind,"  the  Widow 
replied,  "an'  divilish  wrang,  too;  fur  though  Tammy 
moight  be  toof,  as  ye  calls  'im,  he  dizn't  insoolt  any  wan, 
an'  abow  all  he  wudn't  say  a  wurrud  agin  Nora  or  anny 
wan  belongin'  to  her.  Fwhat  Tammy  did,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  was  to  say  a  foonny  little  thing  that  kud  hurt  no 
body's  feelin's  unless  they  war  med  av  candy  an'  a  dhrap 
av  rain  'ould  shpile  'em.  This  is  fwhat  he  did,  an'  fwhin 
I  tell  ye,  thin  ye  kin  judge  av  it  fur  yerseP.  Nora  war 
callin'  Tammy  in  to  have  a  luk  at  the  crayther,  an'  Tammy 
war  sayin'  he  didn't  want  to  have  annything  to  do  wud 
the  little  animal,  as  he  called  it;  thin  Nora,  who's  as 
proud  av  the  kid  as  a  paycock  is  av  its  tail,  rin  into  the 
kitchen  afther  him,  an'  takin'  howld  av  the  poor  b'y 
dhragged  him  in  to  fwhere  I  had  the  choild  in  me  arms. 
Tammy  kicked  and  fought  agin  comin',  but  fwhin  she  had 
Jim  there  he  luked  at  the  baby,  an'  turnin'  up  his  nose, 
sed,  wiclout  maainin'  aannythin'  more  be  it  than  to  mako 
Nora  laugh,  'Fwhy/  sed  he  'it's  got  a  face  on  it  loike  a 
hammer.' 


326  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

"Well,  upon  my  wurrud,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  you'd  think 
a  hose  av  oice  wather  or  a  bit  av  a  breeck  had  shtrick  Nora 
there  an'  thin.  Her  undher  jaw  fell  a  yard  and  she  luked 
loike  a  balloon  wid  the  wind  out  av  her.  'Fwhat's  the 
matter,  Nora,  darlint?'  sez  Oi,  'th'  b'y  is  only  jokinV 
'Oi  don't  like  sich  jokin','  sez  she;  'an'  f what's  more,' 
eez  she,  'Oi  don't  belaive  he'd  say  it  anless  he'd  heard 
some  wan  say  it  afore  him,'  sez  she.  'D'ye  mane  iz?' 
sez  Oi.  "Oi  won't  say  that  Oi  mane  annybody,'  sez  she,  and 
wud  that  she  whipped  an  her  bonnet  an'  grabbin'  up  her  lit 
tle  fraik  av  nature  aff  she  put,  wudout  as  mooch  as  sayin* 
ajoo.  The  divil  whip  her  out  av  me  soight  but  it's  shtruck 
she  musht  be  an  that  kid  of  hers  to  go  gettin'  mad  wud 
Tammy  fur  nawthin'  but  fwhat  was  sed  be  him  about  the 
hammer. 

"Murdher  an'  mush,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  it's  quarer  an* 
quarer  the  wurruld  is  growin'  uv'ry  day.  Aff  a  gerrul 
has  a  baby  now,  an'  it's  the  fusht  she's  had,  she  shakes 
it  in  the  face  av  iz  ould-toimers,  as  much  as  to  say:  'See 
there,  will  ye;  that's  somethin'  ye  can't  do!'  Bad  dang 
to  thim  an'  their  bollawawnies  av  kids,  sure  an'  fwhat 
have  they  to  bylow  about,  fur  didn't  we  forget  long  ago 
fwhat  they're  only  jisht  now  larnin'?  We  was  mothers 
fwhin  they  was  babies  thimselves,  an'  God  knows  but 
some  of  iz  may  be  mothers  agin.  Who  kin  tell?  The 
oidaya  av  howldin'  up  their  yally-neckt  kids  an'  chal- 
lengin'  iz,  that's  retired  an'  out  av  the  bizness,  to  do  as 
well  as  thim ! 

"It  makes  me  sick,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  to  see  their 
goin's  an  an'  lishten  to  their  tootsy-wootsy  in'  and  ther 
blyowin'.  They  don't  know  fwhat  babies  iz,  me  frind. 
Wait  till  they  have  eight  or  tin  av  thim,  as  meself's  had, 
an'  thin  mebbe  it  'ould  be  toime  for  thim  to  blyow,  but 
fwhin  it's  only  wan  baby  an'  that  a  bit  av  a  kid  no  bigger 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  327 

?n  the  palm  av  me  hand,  it's  washtin'  wind  to  talk  about  it. 
Give  me  the  owld  days,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  a  husband 
loike  my  Dinny  was,  God  bless  him,  an'  as  owld  as  Oi  am, 
me  frind,  Oi'd  guarantee  to  rin  a  race  wud  anny  av  the 
poike-nosed  and  lanthern-jawed  damsels  av  to-day  in  the 
matther  av  turnin'  out  a  baby,  an'  compared  wud  fwhat 
ye  see  goin'  at  the  prisint  toime,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  my 
baby  'ould  be  a  deasy,  ye  kin  bet  yer  loife." 


OLD  FOLKS  MARRYING. 

"Oi  wondher  fwhat's  gettin'  into  th'  owld  folks  at  all, 
at  all,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?" 

"Fwhy,  fwhat  ar'  they  doin'  now,  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 

"Fwhat  ar'n't  they  doin'  ye'd  betther  be  afther  axin* 
me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Ar'  they  cuttin'  up  anny  way  dhreadfully,  Mrs.  Ma 
googin?" 

"Dhreadful  is  no  name  fur  id,  me  frind,"  said  the 
Widow,  with  a  half-suppressed  sigh.  "Oi'm  glad  that 
Oi  haven't  anny  owld  folks  belongin'  to  me  livin',  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,  or  begorry  Oi'd  be  in  hot  wather  from 
mornin'  till  noight  thinkin'  an'  worryin'  about  thim,  so 
Oi  wud.  Wurra,  wuira,  wurra,  but  aff  ye  kud  only  read 
th'  newspapers,  me  frind,  it's  the  quare  an'  concinthric 
things  ye'd  foind  in  thim  these  days.  An'  th'  owlder 
payple  is  th'  bigger  divils  they  seems  to  be.  Av  all  th' 
fools  in  th'  wurruld  give  me  an  owld  fool  for  an  out- 
an'-out  fool  intoirely,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  It  isn't  murdher 
ur  rabberies  ur  harse  stailin'  that  they  diz  be  doin' ;  that's 
toO'daycint  an'  sinsible  fur  thim,  Oi  shuppose.  But  they 
goes  an'  gets  married  fwhin  they  have  wan  leg  in  th' 
grave  an'  th'  other  in  th'  andhertakers ;  an'  diz  other 


328  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

eejeeattic  things  that  makes  downright  laughin'  shtocks 
av  thim. 

"Here  is  wan  case  in  pint,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty :  An'  owld 
codger  eighty-foive  years  owld  that  was  divorced  four 
toimes  gets  married  to  an'  owld  pelikin,  as  my  b'y  Tammy 
id  call  her,  eighty-three  years  owld,  that  has  buried  foive 
husbands.  They  was  in  love  wid  aich  other  sixty-six  years 
an'  hadn't  th'  h'art  to  tackle  wan  another  in  all  that 
toime,  altho'  they  cut  quoit  a  shoine  wud  Scupid  in  sev 
eral  other  ways.  There  was  a  great  dail  av  batin'  about 
th'  bush  in  their  case,  Oi'm  thinkin',  an'  there's  no  raisin 
fwhy  the  pair  av  thim  afther  havin'  withshtud  aich  other's 
charrums  an'  fasceenashins  so  long  shudn't  have  had  tho 
gud  sinse  to  howld  out  a  fwhoile  longer  antil  the  purly 
gates  id  opin  an'  prevint  thim  from  makin'  moonkeys  av 
themsel's.  But  think  av  th'  uxpayrience  they  brings  to 
their  wedded  loife,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  and  fwhat  sthrategy 
th'  both  av  thim  '11  be  able  to  resoort  to  fwhin  there's 
a  scrap  in  the  shanty. 

"Thin  there's  th'  crazy  owld  moommy  at  th'  age  av 
noinety-two,  that  rin  aff  an'  eloped  wid  a  giddy  and  goosh- 
ing  craychur  av  sivinty-nine.  Their  great-gran'childer 
ur  somebody  av  that  koind  wudn't  consint  to  thim  gettin' 
marrid,  so  be  th'  jumpin'  powers  fwhat  diz  they  do  but 
pack  up  their  few  bits  av  duds  an'  shkip  be  th'  loight 
av  th'  moon.  Mother  av  Moses,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but 
fwhat  ar'  we  comin'  to  at  all,  at  all,  fwhin  min  an'  wimmin 
owld  enoof  to  be  dead  a  hundherd  years  cuts  up  doidoes 
av  this  soort  ?  Sure  an'  id  takes  a  very  soopple  an'  shtout- 
h'arted  pair  av  young  payple  to  do  th'  elopemint  thrick  in 
shtoyle,  but  this  tottherin'  owld  couple  kud  giv'  anny 
young  pair  cards  an'  spades  an'  bate  thim  half  a  moile 
to  th'  ministher's  house  at  that. 

"Oi  tell  ye,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that  th'  owld  folks  is 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  329 

coinin'  to  the  front  agin.  They're  very  fan  th'  sickle 
indade,  as  me  daughther  Toozy  sez  fwhin  a  shtraik  av 
Frinch  sthroikes  her.  An'  fwhat  diz  fan  th'  sickle  mane? 
Fwhy  it's  Pariseen  for  'way  up  in  G.'  In  other  wurruds, 
id's  out  av  soight,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  But  comin'  back  to 
th'  owld  folks,  me  frind,  id's  no  longer  safe  to  say  that 
annybody's  too  owld  fur  annythin'.  Begorry,  fwhin  they'll 
marry  the  fifth  woife  ur  the  sixth  husban',  an'  they  in 
the  eighties  an'  fwhin  they  '11  elope  an'  they  in  th'  noine- 
ties,  who  knows  fwhat  divilment  they'll  be  up  to  next? 
Oi  wudn't  be  shupproised  now  aff  Oi  hurd  av  a  palsied 
owld  hyppykrit  wud  a  hundherd  an'  noinety-noine  years' 
sin  and  sorries  an  his  back  j'inin'  the  Mormon  church 
an'  marryin'  tin  woives  as  young  an'  buxim  as  mesel'. 
Dang  my  buttons  aff  I  would,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 


NEW  YOEK'S  BACHELOE  MAYOE. 

"Ar'  ye  there,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?"  shouted  the  Widow 
Magoogin  across  the  air-shaft  to  her  neighbor. 

"Faix  'n  Oi  am,"  said  the  neighbor.  "An'  fwhat  is  id 
is  ailin'  ye,  now,  Oi  don't  know." 

"Oh,  nawthin'  very  mooch,"  the  Widow  replied,  "but 
Oi  wanted  to  ax  ye  did  ye  hear  tell  av  how  His  'Anner, 
Mare  Van  Woyck,  saved  the  loives  av  two  gerruls  on  Long 
Oisland  beyant,  be  pullin'  thim  out  av  the  wather  fwhin 
they  war  dhrowndin'?  So  ye  didn't  hear  av  id,  eh? 
Well,  it's  a  long  shtory  the  way  the  papers  towld  id — but 
thim  reporthers  always  puts  a  lot  to  id  fwhinuver  they're 
tellin'  a  shtory — an'  barrin'  the  dinky-doidoes  an'  doime 
novel  nansinse  that  they  printed  about  id,  this  is  the  way 
id  happen'd,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  The  two  gerruls  war  in 


33O  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

th'  wather  inj'yin'  their  annule  bat* — as  me  daughther 
Toozy  calls  id  fwhin  she  wishes  to  be  hoighflewn  an* 
stoylish  in  her  langwidge — fwhin  all  av  a  suddint,  d'ye 
moind,  they  war  taken  wid  cramps  an'  begon  to  sink.  His 
'Anner,  who  has  a  great  oye  for.faymale  beauty,  an'  nuver 
falls  asleep  fwhin  a  lovely  craythure  is  takin'  a  bat'  anny- 
fwhere  in  his  vicinity,  purcaived  their  disthress  an'  loike- 
woise  hurd  their  croies  for  help.  So  up  he  dashes  an' 
widout  waitin'  to  take  off  his  byootiful  new  blyue  pekay 
boicycle  pants  ur  anythin'  else,  into  the  wather  he  jumps 
an'  carries  thim  out,  wan  an  aich  arrum,  an'  both  av 
thim  as  near  death's  dure  as  they  '11  uver  be  agin,  Oi'll 
warrant  ye,  widout  crossin'  the  thrishold  an'  goin'  in.  He 
rowled  thim  on  barrels  till  he  rowled  all  the  wather  out 
av  thim,  and  thin  fwhin  they  war  safe  an'  sound  an' 
beyant  danger,  he  ushkused  himself  in  a  rail  gintlemanly 
way,  an'  wint  home  an'  wint  to  bed  fwhoile  his  boicycle 
pants  war  out  dhryin'  on  the  loine. 

"It  was  a  foine  piece  av  hayroism,  Mrs.  McG-laggerty, 
an'  Oi  don't  want  to  disthract  annythin'  from  id  in  any 
sinse  av  the  wurrud,  me  frind,  but  as  me  daughther  Toozy 
sez  aff  His  'Anner  hadn't  a  bin  an  onromantic  mane  owld 
bachalor — fwhich  he  is,  bad  sesht  to  him! — there  id  be  a 
considherably  differint  ind  to  the  shtory  from  fwhat 
there  is  now.  Fwhat  he  shud  have  done,  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty,  is  this:  You  remimber  that  uvry  summer  at  the 
saysoide  fwhin  a  man  reshcues  a  gerrul  from  dhrownin' 
the  grateful  craythure  in  the  j'y  an'  exultashin  av  the 
momint  axes  him  to  marry  her,  an'  he  usu'lly  does,  especial 
ly  aff  she's  a  millionaire's  daughther,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
Now,  thin,  in  His  'Anner's  case,  there  bein'  two  av  thim 
an'  aich  bein'  aiqually  behowldin'  to  him  for  her  loife, 
nayther  wan  av  thim,  Oi  shuppose,  andhershtood  fwhich 
had  the  roight  over  the  other  to  ax  him  to  marry  her,  an' 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  331 

so  nayther  av  thim  axt  him.  But  id  was  his  place,  seem* 
their  imbarrassment  an'  the  diffewculty  av  their  position, 
to  tell  thim  who  he  was  an'  to  ax  wan  av  thim  to  marry 
him  there  an'  thin.  Oi'll  bet  a  pint  av  ale  aginst  a 
bashkit  av  sassafarella  that  aff  he'd  a  given  ayther  av  thim 
the  wind  av  the  wurrud,  he  wudn't  be  sittin'  over  in  the 
City  Hall  now  sewin'  his  own  buttons  on  his  vest  an* 
thrimmin'  the  fringe  av  the  heels  av  his  pants  wid  an 
invellope  opener. 

"But  His  'Anner  is  an  owld  ballawauney  av  a  man  that 
thinks  wimmin  ar'  no  good  uxcept  to  be  throipewroiters 
an'  bally  dancers,  an'  he  has  set  his  face  agin  marryin'  air 
a  wan  av  thim.  He  thinks  himself  too  good  fur  anny  av 
us,  Oi  shuppose,  an'  begorra,  mebbe  he  is,  but  shmarter 
min  nor  him  have  bin  caught  in  byooty's  thrap  afore  this, 
an'  may  th'  Lord  forgive  me  for  sayin'  id,  but  fwhin  he 
diz  marry  Oi  hope  an'  pray  that  id  '11  be  some  owld  pelikin 
av  a  refawrmer  too  shkinny-boned  to  wear  dollyket  dhresses 
an'  so  sanctimonious  that  the  music  av  the  hootchy-kootchy 
will  giv  her  the  jim-jams.  Bad  rattle  me  aft5  Oi  don't, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty  " 


A  MAN'S  RIGHT  TO  BEAT  HIS  WIFE. 

"Was  ye  uver  in  Noo  Jursey,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 
"No,  but  Oi  was  in  Jursey  City  wanst,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 
"Thin  take  my  advoice  an'  shtay  out  av  id,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty." 

"Troth  'n  Oi  shuppose  id's  out  av  id  Oi'll  shtay  anny 
way,  Mrs.  Magoogin.  But  fwhat's  ailin'  id  now,  me 
frihd?" 

"The  same  that's  ailed  it  all  the  toime,  Oi  shuppose," 


33-  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

said  the  Widow.  "To  tell  ye  the  thruth,  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty,  Oi  nuver  hurd  av  id  afore  exceptin'  in  the  song, 
antil  th'  other  day  fwhin  my  b'y  Tammy  read  me  a  piece 
out  av  the  paper  in  fwhich  id  said  that  a  man  had  a 
purfeck  roight  to  bait  his  wife  in  Noo  Jursey.  Did  ye 
liver  hear  tell  av  the  loikes  av  that  afore,  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty?  Upon  me  wurrud  id  med  me  blud  bile  fwhin 
Tammy  read  id.  Oi  kud  harrdly  belaive  me  earsoight, 
so  notoriously  exchtonishin'  was  id ! 

"Ye  may  well  open  yer  eyes,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but 
divil  the  wurrud  av  loie  Oi'm  tellin'  ye.  Sure  an'  wasn't 
id  in  the  paper,  wrote  down  in  black  an'  fwhoite,  fwhere 
anybody  kud  read  id  that  kud  read  at  all?  A  mane 
spridhogue  av  a  man  was  arrested  fur  baitin'  his  woife, 
an'  fwhat  did  the  judge  an'  jury  up  an'  do,  bad  sesh  to 
thim !  but  towld  him  he  did  purfeckly  roight,  an'  they  shuk 
hands  wid  him  an'  let  him  go.  May  Oi  nuver  shtir  out 
av  this  shpot  aff  id  isn't  so,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Well, 
well,  well,  but  quare  things  ar'  happenin'  uv'ry  day,  an' 
av  all  the  quare  things  Oi  think  this  is  sartinly  the  quarest. 
Th'  oidaya !  Oi  shuppose  aff  id  was  a  woman  that  hit 
her  husband,  thim  Noo  Jursey  farmers  id  sind  her  to 
the  pinetintiary  fur  tin  years,  an'  thry  to  hang  her,  too, 
begorries.  Law  or  no  law,  Oi'd  loike  to  lay  me  eyes  an  the 
man  that  id  roise  a  finger  to  do  me  anny  harrum,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty.  Oi'm  a  daycint,  paicable  woman,  an'  Oi 
don't  shuppose  Oi  uver  bet  me  poor  Dinny — God  be  gud 
to  his  dear  owld  sowl — more  than  twoice  air  a  month 
since  we  war  married,  but  aff  a  man  uver  dared  to  breathe 
a  wurrud  about  baitin'  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Oi'd  take 
howld  av  him  be  the  boick  av  the  nick  an'  Oi'd  not  laive 
a  whole  bone  in  his  carcass. 

"Noo  Jursey  musht  be  a  foony  soort  av  a  place  to  pass 
laws  loike  thim.  Oh,  but  id  id  be  a  great  shpot  fur  Danny 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  333 

Doolan  now,  wudn't  id,  fur  fwhin  Danny  isn't  baitin'  his 
woife  he's  an  the  Oisland  abow,  an'  fwhin  he  isn't  an  th' 
Oisland  he's  baitin'  his  woife,  an'  divil  th'  boite  ur  th'  sup 
Danny  id  have  ur  a  shelther  fur  his  head  aither  aff  id 
wasn't  fur  th'  same  woman,  heaven  pity  her.  Aff  Oi 
was  in  Noo  Jursey  an'  was  the  woife  av  wan  av  thim  1'yers 
that  makes  thim  laws,  Oi'd  lay  the  poll  av  his  head  open 
wud  the  shtove  led  aff  he  throied  to  come  anny  av  his  she- 
nanagin  over  me.  An'  Oi'd  dang  soon  make  him  change 
the  law,  too,  so  Oi  wud.  But  Noo  Jursey's  a  quare  coun- 
thry,  they  tell.  By  the  hokey,  but  they  do  say  that  some  av 
thim  farmers  over  there  disn't  know  that  they're  aloive, 
Mrs  McGlaggerty !  Isn't  that  shtrange,  now  ?" 


NO  TITLED  HUSBAND  FOR  HER. 

"Oi  had  a  rale  king  at  th'  front  dure  this  mawrnin', 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"A  king,  is  id  ?  A  king  av  clubs,  Oi  shuppose  ye  mane, 
Mrs.  Magoogin?  That  copper  that  ye  med  the  smash  an 
th'  other  day." 

"No,  no  copper,  me  frind,  nur  king  av  clubs  naither, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow,  "but  a  rale  owld 
Oirish  King — the  King  av  Dusther,  my  b'y  Tommy  calls 
him,  but  id's  th'  King  av  Ulsther  he  manes.  He's  not 
uxactly  a  King  aither,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  his  great- 
great-gran'father  av  tin  thousan'  years  ago  afore  him  was 
a  King  av  Ulsther,  an'  he  have  r'yal  blood  in  his  brains, 
so  they  say.  Ay,  now  Oi  have  id;  it's  a  Prince  he  is. 
Arra,  wisha,  how  did  Oi  uver  furget  id  ?  Yis,  ma'am,  he's 
the  Prince  av  Nannygoat  Landing,  an'  he  sez  they've 
played  a  cornet  in  th'  family  fur  uver  so  manny  hundherds 


334  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

av  years.  Thim  cornets  is  all  th'  shtoyle  in  r'yal  families, 
an'  some  av  th'  hoigh-choonies  over  here  in  Noo  Yarrick 
is  thryin'  to  get  howld  av  thim.  Well,  lo,  an'  behold  ye, 
fwhat  d'ye  think  the  descindint  av  th  King  av  Dusther 
wanted  wud  me?  Fwhisper  and  Oi'll  tell  ye  in  his  own 
very  wurruds.  'Gud  mawrnin',  ma'am/  sez  he,  fwhin  Oi 
opined  the  dure;  'is  id  Mrs.  Birdie  Magoogin,  Esq.,  Oi 
have  the  honor  av  spakin'  to,  Oi  don't  knoo?'  sez  he.  'Id 
iz,'  sez  Oi.  'Thin  id's  happy  Oi  am  to  mate  ye,'  sez  he, 
shtickin'  out  his  fisht.  'An'  fur  fwhy?'  sez  Oi,  lukin' 
at  him.  'Fur  uv'ry  fwhy,'  sez  he.  'Well,  fwhat's  one  av 
the  fur  fwhys?'  sez  Oi.  'Howld  an  a  bit,'  sez  he;  'Oi 
have  a  letther  here  from  Conny  O'Rourke,  av  Dunamore,' 
sez  he,  'intherducin'  me  an'  tellin'  who  Oi  am,'  sez  he. 
'Faix  'n  ye  don't  saim  to  need  anny  letther,'  sez  Oi,  'fur 
ye've  intherduced  yerseP  widout  id,'  sez  Oi.  'All  roight, 
thin,'  sez  he.  'Oi'll  intherduce  mesel'  agin,'  sez  he,  an' 
wud  that  he  up  an'  towld  me  av  the  r'yal  blud  in  his  brains 
an'  his  aunt's  sisther's  name,  fwhich  was  th'  King  av 
Ulsther,  an'  he  sed  as  how  the  King's  bezniss  got  so  poor 
that  id  didn't  pay,  an'  th'  family  got  into  reduced  circum 
stances  an'  had  to  move  into  a  tinnymint  fwhere  their 
cornet  wasn't  av  anny  use  to  thim  owin'  to  th'  large  num 
ber  av  sick  childher  in  th'  house  uv'ry  summer;  an'  now 
aff  Oi'd  give  him  tin  thousan'  dollars  a  minnit  Oi  kud 
marry  him  an'  have  his  toitle  an'  his  cornet  an'  uv'ry  thing. 
Oi  towld  him  wan  foreigner  in  th'  family  was  enoof — 
fwhich  was  mesel' — and  Oi  towld  him  to  get  away  frarn 
me  dure  ur  Oi'd  sick  th'  goat  an  him.  Wud  that  Oi 
raiched  fur  a  bar  av  oiron  that  was  an  th'  sofy  in  th' 
parlor  an'  aff  he  hedn't  shkipped  out  moighty  quick  Oi'd 
have  pit  a  cut  in  his  poll  that  id  not  laive  him  very  soon, 
Oi'll  warrint  ye. 

"Th'  oidaya  av  me  payin'  tin  thousan'  dollars  fur  a 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  335 

husband  that  ought  to  be  in  th'  poorhouse.  Fwhaf  s  his 
cornet  ur  his  r'yal  moonkey  bezniss  to  me?  Id  makes 
me  sick  fwhin  Oi  hears  av  thim  daughthers  av  American 
millinaries  buyin'  their  husban's  in  th'  polaice  coorts  av 
Europe,  pay  in'  thousan's  an'  thousan's  av  dollars  fur 
Princes  and  Counts  and  no  accounts.  Ye'll  nuver  ketch 
me  doin'  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  No  Prince  av  Nannygoat 
Landin'  fur  me,  me  frind.  Oi'd  suner  marry  a  Noo  Yar- 
rick  polaiceman.  Princes  an'  Counts  musht  be  shkarce 
in  Europe.  That's  fwhy  they  come  so  hoigh,  Oi  shup- 
pose,  fwhich  reminds  me  av  somethin'  Tammy  was  tellin' 
iz  th'  other  day.  D'ye  see,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  there  was 
an  Englishman  wanst  axed  an  Oirishman  who  was  livin* 
an  a  cannibal  oisland  how  id  kem  to  be  that  he  had  so 
many  foine  ducks  an'  was  shtill  so  poor.  'Fwhy,'  sez  this 
Englishman,  'aff  ye  had  thim  ducks  in  England  ye  kud 
be  afther  gettin'  six  ur  eight  shillin'  a  pair  fur  thim/ 
'Yis/  said  Pat,  'an'  aff  Oi  had  this  pail  av  wather  in  hell/ 
sez  he,  pintin'  to  the  buckit  he  hild  in  his  hand,  'Oi  kud 
get  tin  shillin's  a  glass  fur  id/  An'  so  Oi  guess  he  kud, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Begorry,  Oi'd  give  tin  shillin's  a  glass 
fur  a  glass  av  wather  mesel'  aff  Oi  was  in  th'  Owld  B'y'a 
counthry,  so  Oi  wud,  an'  don't  ye  furget  id,  me  frind/' 


MUSIC  AND  DKAMA. 


MUSIC  AND  DRAMA. 


SHE  GOES  TO  GKAND  OPERA. 

The  Widow  Magoogin  was  out  in  the  yard  washing,  and 
at  the  same  time  trying  to  sing  a  popular  song  that  she  had 
heard  her  daughter  Arethusa  warbling.  Of  course  she 
didn't  have  the  words  right,  or  the  air  either,  but  that  made 
little  difference.  This  is  what  she  was  singing  when  her 
neighbor,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  put  her  head  over  the  fence: 

"Nya-ha-ha !     Luk  at  the  doods  that  'round  the  sthreet 

prance, 

A  mashin'  the  gerls  fwhin  they  gets  a  gud  chance. 
They  uses  a  moonkey-wrinch  puttin'  an  their  pants; 
But  fur  gudniss  sake,  don't  tell  'em  Oi  sed  so." 

"Musha,  my,  Mrs.  Magoogin,"  said  her  neighbor,  "but 
you're  feelin'  merry  this  mornin',  an'  you  have  a  v'ice  like 
a  tin  whistle  breakin'  its  heart  to  be  he'rd.  Where  did 
you  learn  to  sing,  anyway  ?" 

"Whisht,  woman  aloive !"  the  Widow  responded.  "Wasn't 
Oi  to  the  opery  th'  other  noight,  fwhin  Oi  hurd  th'  Eye- 
talians  makin'  enough  n'ise  to  break  up  all  the  daif  an* 
dumb  asoylums  in  the  counthry,  an'  scraichin'  away,  bad 
luk  to  thim,  in  some  haythyenish  lingo  that  divil  the  wan 
av  me  or  anybody  else  cud  andhersthand,  as  aflf  they  wudn't 
laive  a  lung  in  their  yallow  carcasses." 

[339] 


330  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

th'  wather  inj'yin'  their  annule  bat' — as  me  daughther 
Toozy  calls  id  fwhin  she  wishes  to  be  hoighflewn  an* 
stoylish  in  her  langwidge — fwhin  all  av  a  suddint,  d'ye 
moind,  they  war  taken  wid  cramps  an'  begon  to  sink.  His 
'Anner,  who  has  a  great  oye  for.  fay  male  beauty,  an'  nuver 
falls  asleep  fwhin  a  lovely  craythure  is  takin'  a  bat'  anny- 
fwhere  in  his  vicinity,  purcaived  their  disthress  an'  loike- 
woise  hurd  their  croies  for  help.  So  up  he  dashes  an' 
wid  out  waitin'  to  take  off  his  byootiful  new  blyue  pekay 
boicycle  pants  ur  any  thin'  else,  into  the  wather  he  jumps 
an*  carries  thim  out,  wan  an  aich  arrum,  an'  both  av 
thim  as  near  death's  dure  as  they  '11  uver  be  agin,  Oi'll 
warrant  ye,  widout  crossin'  the  thrishold  an'  goin'  in.  He 
rowled  thim  on  barrels  till  he  rowled  all  the  wather  out 
av  thim,  and  thin  fwhin  they  war  safe  an'  sound  an' 
beyant  danger,  he  ushkused  himself  in  a  rail  gintlemanly 
way,  an'  wint  home  an'  wint  to  bed  fwhoile  his  boicycle 
pants  war  out  dhryin'  on  the  loine. 

"It  was  a  foine  piece  av  hayroism,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
an'  Oi  don't  want  to  disthract  annythin'  from  id  in  any 
einse  av  the  wurrud,  me  frind,  but  as  me  daughther  Toozy 
sez  aff  His  'Anner  hadn't  a  bin  an  onromantic  mane  owld 
bachalor — f which  he  is,  bad  sesht  to  him! — there  id  be  a 
considherably  differint  ind  to  the  shtory  from  fwhat 
there  is  now.  Fwhat  he  shud  have  done,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  is  this:  You  remimber  that  uvry  summer  at  the 
saysoide  fwhin  a  man  reshcues  a  gerrul  from  dhrownin' 
the  grateful  craythure  in  the  j'y  an'  exultashin  av  the 
momint  axes  him  to  marry  her,  an'  he  usu'lly  does,  especial 
ly  aff  she's  a  millionaire's  daughther,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
Now,  thin,  in  His  'Anner's  case,  there  bein'  two  av  thim 
an'  aich  bein'  aiqually  behowldin'  to  him  for  her  loife, 
nayther  wan  av  thim,  Oi  shuppose,  andhershtood  fwhich 
had  the  roight  over  the  other  to  ax  him  to  marry  her,  an' 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  331 

so  nayther  av  thim  axt  him.  But  id  was  his  place,  seein* 
their  imbarrassment  an'  the  diffewculty  av  their  position, 
to  tell  thim  who  he  was  an'  to  ax  wan  av  thim  to  marry 
him  there  an'  thin.  Oi'll  bet  a  pint  av  ale  aginst  a 
bashkit  av  sassafarella  that  aff  he'd  a  given  ayther  av  thim 
the  wind  av  the  wurrud,  he  wudn't  be  sittin'  over  in  the 
City  Hall  now  sewin'  his  own  buttons  on  his  vest  an* 
thrimmin'  the  fringe  av  the  heels  av  his  pants  wid  an 
invellope  opener. 

"But  His  'Anner  is  an  owld  ballawauney  av  a  man  that 
thinks  wimmin  ar'  no  good  uxcept  to  be  throipewroiters 
an'  bally  dancers,  an'  he  has  set  his  face  agin  marryin'  air 
a  wan  av  thim.  He  thinks  himself  too  good  fur  anny  av 
us,  Oi  shuppose,  an'  begorra,  mebbe  he  is,  but  shmarter 
min  nor  him  have  bin  caught  in  byooty's  thrap  afore  this, 
an'  may  th'  Lord  forgive  me  for  sayin'  id,  but  fwhin  he 
diz  marry  Oi  hope  an'  pray  that  id  '11  be  some  owld  pelikin 
av  a  ref  awrmer  too  shkinny-boned  to  wear  dollyket  dhresses 
an'  so  sanctimonious  that  the  music  av  the  hootehy-kootchy 
will  giv  her  the  jim-jams.  Bad  rattle  me  aft3  Oi  don't, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty  " 


A  MAN'S  RIGHT  TO  BEAT  HIS  WIFE. 

"Was  ye  uver  in  Noo  Jursey,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?" 
"No,  but  Oi  was  in  Jursey  City  wanst,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 
"Thin  take  my  advoice  an'  shtay  out  av  id,  Mrs.  Mc 
Glaggerty." 

"Troth  'n  Oi  shuppose  id's  out  av  id  Oi'll  shtay  anny 
way,  Mrs.  Magoogin.  But  fwhat's  ailin'  id  now,  me 
frind?" 

"The  same  that's  ailed  it  all  the  toime,  Oi  shuppose," 


342  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

me  the  lie  about  it.  Oi'll  nuver  go  agin,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
the  longest  day  Oi  live,  if  it  war  to  be  tin  hundhert  yearSj 
fwhich  it  won't.  Arethoosy  sez  it's  shto}de,  but  begorra, 
aff  it's  shtoyle  to  make  a  moonkey  av  wan's  self  fur  a  lot 
av  yellow-hoided  paynit  peddhlers,  thin  ye  kin  count  me 
out  av  it,  an'  Oi'll  be  vury  much  obloiged  to  ye,  fur  it's  all 
fiddlesthicks.  That's  fwhat  it  is." 


AT  THE  ACTOE'S  FUND  FAIR. 

"Ow,  wow,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 

"An'  fwhat  is  id  now,  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 

"Ow,  wow,  but  ye  ought  to  have  wint  to  th'  Aethors' 
Fund  Fair,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 

"Throth  'n  id  was  too  hoigh  chooned  fur  a  thing  loike 
me,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Yis,  an'  id  was  too  hoigh  chooned  fur  annybody,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow,  with  a  sigh.  "It  id  make 
wan  av  the  Ratshoilds  poor  to  shpind  tin  minnits  in  id. 
Id  was  nawthin'  but  mooney,  mooney,  mooney,  fram  the 
momint  ye  wint  in  wan  dure  until  ye  wint  out  th'  other. 
Fwhy,  didn't  Oi  see  a  forward  little  hussy  av  a  gerrul 
that  sed  she  ushed  to  act  in  'Ooncle  Tarn's  Cabin'  pin 
a  Johnny-joomp-oop  in  a  young  mon's  button-hole  an' 
ax  him  twinty-foive  dollars  fur  id?  Begorry,  Oi  kin  go 
up  to  Hoighbridge  ur  over  to  Binson-Thurst-be-the-Say- 
eoide  an'  ploock  a  wagin  load  av  Johnny- joomp-oops  an* 
daisies  an'  forget-me-nots  fur  nawthin',  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty.  Thin  there's  poor  ould  Misthur  Croker,  the  head 
man  av  Tammany;  they  shtoock  him  fur  fifty  dollars  fur 
a  Maggie  O'Naill  rose,  an'  did  the  same  to  Johnnie 
Sheehan,  an'  a  hundherd  others  av  thim.  Upon  my 
wurrud,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  ye'd  think  money  grew  an 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  343 

threes  an'  uv'rybody  had  an  orchard  growin'  hundherd- 
dollar  bills  in  the  back  yard  the  way  mooney  flowed  from 
payple's  fingers  at  that  Aethers'  Fair.  Fwhy,  woman 
aloive,  they  war  sellin'  bonnets  fur  fifty  an'  sixty  dollars 
thet  Oi  kin  go  over  an  Eleventh  avenoo  an'  buy  anny 
day  in  the  wake  fur  a  dollar  an'  a  half.  Ow,  wow!  but 
id's  thim  that  med  the  dusht!  Oodles  an'  boodles  an' 
kyoodles  av  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty ! 

"Me  daughther  Toozy  was  to  have  had  an  'ysther  table 
there,  but  somebody  sed  that  the  Patsy  Doody  Dhramatic 
Club  that  she  belongt  to  wanst  wasn't  a  rale  theaytre 
throop,  so  they  tuk  the  table  away  fram  her  an'  gev  id 
to  Fanny  Herrin'  ur  Edwin  Boot,  Oi  furget  fwhich  now. 
Toozy  was  wid  me  at  the  fair,  an'  ye  ought  to  hurd  her 
goin'  into  ecshtacies  over  thim  acthresses.  'Isn't  she  purty, 
mimmaw  ?'  she'd  say  to  me,  ur,  'Oh,  how  beyootiful !'  an* 
all  that  soort  av  nonsinse.  Divil  the  great  shakes  av  pur- 
tiness  ur  byooty  kud  Oi  see  in  anny  av  thim  wid  their 
paint  an'  powdher  an,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Fwhin  Oi  was 
a  gerrul  Oi  had  rosier  cheeks  an'  sparklin'er  eyes  than  anny 
av  thim ;  there  wasn't  air  a  wan  Oi  saw  in  the  gardin  thai 
kud  howld  a  candle  to  me,  aiven  aff  Oi  do  say  id  meself 
that  oughtn't  to,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  An'  Oi  didn't  have 
no  Graycian  knots  ur  Pompy  dhresses  ur  overgrown  doi- 
monds  to  set  aff  me  byooty  aythervme  frind.  But  id's  well 
they  med  uvry  wan  pay  fur  lukin'  at  thim,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty.  Aff  a  poor  gommah  av  a  man  only  shkinted  soide- 
ways  at  thim,  begorry  they  were  down  on  him  in  a  minnit, 
makin'  him  pay  foive  dollars  fur  a  pinch  av  shnuff  ur 
twinty-foive  fur  a  bottle  av  sassparella.  Faix  'n  ye  kin 
belaive  me  id's  not  manny  twinty-foives  they  got  out  ay 
me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi  bought  a  few  little  things  fur 
memintoes,  as  Toozy  called  thim,  but  that  was  all.  Oi 
wint  there  to  see  things  more  than  anyything  else,  an'  do 


344  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

ye  know  they  throid  to  play  me  fur  a  jay  an'  shtuff  me, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  They  showed  me  a  house  med  av 
canvas  an'  sed  that's  fwhere  the  great  Shakspiel  was  horned 
three  hundherd  years  ago.  'In  this?'  sez  Oi.  'Yis,  in 
this/  sez  they.  'An'  fwhat  do  you  take  me  for?'  sez  Oi, 
eyein'  thim  as  harrud  as  Oi  kud.  'Because  fwhy?'  sez 
they.  'Because  Barnum's  serkus  was  here  lasht  week/  sez 
Oi,  'an'  there  was  no  Shakpiel  house  here  thin/  sez  Oi, 
'an'  fwhat's  more,  there  was  no  Shakspiel  nayther/  sez 
Oi.  An'  nayther  there  wasn't  nayther,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
They  kudn't  fool  me,  me  frind.  Th'  oidaya!  Fwhy,  Oi 
nuver  hurd  av  Shakspiel  afore,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  1" 


SHE  WON'T  GO  ON  THE  STAGE. 

"D'ye  know,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  owld  frind,  fwhat 
s'soity's  thryin'  to  make  me  do  now?"  said  the  Widow 
Magoogin. 

"Deed  'n  I  don't,"  answered  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  who 
was  visiting  the  Widow. 

"Well,  God  save  the  mark,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty/'  said 
the  old  lady,  "but  they're  thryin'  to  invaigle  me  into  play- 
acthin'  in  their  ammychewer  tayatricles,  as  they  calls  thim, 
and  they  give  me  no  pace  day  or  noight  wid  their  palaverin' 
an'  their  hooneyfoogelin'  tellin'  me  fwhat  a  foine  acthress 
Oi'd  make  an'  how  byootiful  Oi'd  luke  in  a  dhress  wud 
nawthin'  abow  me  waisht  but  a  pair  uv  moonloight-an-the- 
lake  shuspinders  an'  a  big  buttonhole  bookay.  Fwhy,  aiven 
me  own  daughther  Toozy  is  purshooin'  me  wud  this  rekusht 
to  have  me  make  me  dayboot  an  the  shtage.  Now,  fwhat 
in  the  wurruld  diz  a  widdy  woman  wud  grown  childher  an' 
common  sinse  want  to  be  af  ther  makin'  a  moonkey  av  her- 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  345 

sel'  fur  in  such  a  way?  'Fur  shwate  charity/  sez  Mrs. 
Bingbong  nuxt  dure;  'Fur  the  advancement  av  art,'  sez 
Mrs.  Vanderbilk;  'Jisht  for  foon/  sez  Miss  Floighty; 
'Because  it's  the  shtoyle,'  me  daughther  Toozy.  'But  Oi'm 
too  shtout,'  Oi  sez  to  thim.  'Oh,  not  a  bit  av  it,  Mrs. 
Magoogin,' sez  they ;  'ye're  jisht  the  figger,'  sez  they.  'For 
what  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Fur  Leady  Macbety  sez  they.  'An'  fwhat 
diz  Leady  Macbet'  do  ?'  sez  Oi.  'She  walks  in  her  shleep/ 
sez  Toozy.  'Oh,  she  do,  do  she?'  sez  Oi;  'thin  divil  a 
walk  '11  Berdie  Magoogin  walk  in  her  shleep,'  sez  Oi.  'Fur 
Oi'll  nuver  dishgrace  mesel'  be  goin'  aroun'  in  me  night 
gown  an'  gettin'  arreshted  be  the  polaice/  sez  Oi.  But 
no  matther  fwhat  Oi  sed,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  nor  fwhat 
Oi  did,  nawthin'  '11  saim  to  do  thim  anny  gud,  but  Oi 
musht  pleay  out  an  the  shtage  fur  thim. 

"Oh,  don't  be  afeert,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty;  laugh  roight 
out!  an'  well  ye  may.  Id's  laughin'  Oi'd  be  mesel'  affi 
id  wasn't  mesel'  Oi'd  be  laughin'  at.  Th'  oidaya  av  an 
owld  woman  loike  me  makin'  a  fairy  av  hersel'  or  a 
Leady  Macbet',  comin'  out  an  the  shtage  wud  bare  legs, 
mebbe,  an'  havin'  all  the  joods  in  the  front  row  p'intin' 
their  op'ry  glasses  at  her  to  see  fwhether  she's  the  figger 
av  a  Vaynus  ur  an  apple  woman.  Begorry,  aff  they  war 
to  clap  their  glasses  an  my  figger  wanst  Oi'm  thinkin' 
Oi'd  blish  so  hard  it  id  set  me  hair  an'  clothes  afoire. 
There's  no  ushe  talkin',  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Oi'm  not  cut 
out  fur  pleay-acthin'.  Mrs.  Potter  an'  Mrs.  Langthry, 
an'  Mrs.  Carter — they  loikes  id  an'  they  gets  along  in 
id  noicely,  but  wud  me  id's  diffrunt.  Oi  don't  sympy- 
t'oize  wud  Mullanphy  an'  Gillespie  an'  thim  other  haythin 
goddesses  that  howld  shway  in  th  t'eaythre." 

"Mimmaw,"  called  Arethusa  from  an  adjoining  room. 

"Fwhat  is  id,  Toozy,  me  darlint  ?" 


346  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

"It's  noc  Mullanphy  and  Gillespie,  mimmaw,  but  Mel 
pomene  and  Thespis." 

"Oh,  id  is,  is  id?"  said  the  Widow.  "Well,  tell  thim 
that  yer  mother's  a  lady  an'  she  dizn't  care  the  rap  av 
a  pin  fwhat  their  names  is — she's  got  no  ushe  fur  thim 
anyhow,  has  she,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?"  and  with  that  the 
Widow  laughed  aloud  and  seemed  to  be  enjoying  herself. 


MRS.  POTTER  AS  CLEOPATRA. 

"Fwhishper,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"An*  fwhat  is  id,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 

"Oi  wint  to  th'  theayther  lasht  noight." 

"An' fwhat  did  ye  see?" 

"Ton  me  sowl,  Oi  saw  a  soight  that  med  th'  Wishes 
come  to  me  cheeks,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,'  said  the  Widow. 
"Oi  saw  Mrs.  James  Brown  Potther  carryin'  an  an  the 
shtage  in  a  way  that  id  make  any  daycint  woman  ashamed 
av  the  sect  she  belonged  to.  To  be  coorse  she  was  only 
actin';  but,  howly  mother  av  Moses!  do  ye  think  Mrs. 
Berdie  Magoogin,  Esq.,  poor  as  she  is  an'  bad  as  she 
wants  a  dollar  now  an'  thin,  id  uxpose  hersel'  an  the 
shtage  ur  an  th'  omnibus  aither  fur  all  th'  mooney  that 
the  King  av  Roosha  kud  offer  her?  Fwhy,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty,  fwhat  do  ye  think  ?  Clayopathra  moight  as  well  not 
have  a  shtitch  av  clothes  an  her  as  to  have  the  mushkitty 
bar  an'  tissue  paper  pollynaise  that  she  wore  fwhin  Oi 
saw  her,  an'  th'  theaytre  full  av  min  wid  heads  as  shlick 
an'  hairless  as  the  palm  av  yer  hand  lukin'  at  her  through 
shpy-glasses  big  enoof  to  kill  Ditchmen  wud.  fOh,  mim 
maw,'  sed  me  daughther  Toozy,  *but  isn't  it  Oreintil?' 
'Ori  fwhatil?'  sez  Oi.  'Oreintil/  sez  she.  <0ri  divil  ye 
mane,'  sez  Oi,  'an'  id's  arreshted  she  ought  to  be,  so  she 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  347 

ought/  sez  Oi,  'fur  exposin'  hersel'/  sez  Oi.  'Oh,  but 
she's  a  piethur/  sez  she.  'Troth  'n  she  iz,  an*  a  dang 
sorry  pecthur  she  iz/  sez  Oi;  'an'  inshtid  av  a  bare 
legged  Antony  rinnin'  afther  her  to  hug  an'  kiss  her/ 
sez  Oi,  'id's  Anthony  Comshtock  that  ought  to  be  up  an 
th'  shtage  wud  her  arreshtin'  her/  sez  Oi.  'Fwhy,  mim- 
maw/  sez  she,  'f what  ar'  ye  talkin'  about  ?'  sez  she ;  'that's 
the  way  Clayopathra  ushed  to  dhress/  sed  she.  'Is  that 
so?'  sez  Oi.  'Yis,  id  is/  sez  she.  'Thin/  sez  Oi,  'Clayo 
pathra  shud  be  ashamed  av  hersel'/  sez  Oi;  'an'  aff  Oi 
saw  her  Oi'd  tell  her  so,  too/  sez  Oi.  That  knockt  Toozy 
out  intoirely,  so  she  sed  no  more,  but  sot  there  ravin* 
about  Oreintil  splindor,  an'  B'lyew's  legs,  antil  Oi  thawt 
she'd  have  th'  hoighshtroikes  ur  th'  hydhrophoby.  Isn't 
it  awful,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that  anny  woman  shud  be 
allowed  to  carry  an  an  th'  shtage  loike  Mrs.  Potter  diz? 
Oi  kud  sink  roight  down  into  the  flyure  an'  let  id  shwally 
me  fwhin  Oi  saw  th'  cut  av  her  as  she  walked  down  th' 
shtage.  Be  gannies,  fwhat  kin  th'  woman  be  up  to,  Oi 
wondher  ?  Aff  she  wants  to  make  a  fortune  be  not  wearin' 
anny  clothes  at  all,  fwhy  dizn't  she  become  a  tattooed 
woman  an'  go  into  the  doime  museems,  oih  ?" 


SHE  WAS  ASKED  TO  BE  A  LIVING  PICTUEE. 

"Was  ye  uver  insoolted,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?" 

"Oh,  manny's  th'  toime,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"Was  id  be  a  annybody  or  a  nobody,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 

"Oh,  be  ivirybody,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 

"An'  didn't  id  make  ye  feel  bad,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 

"Well " 

"There,  now,  that's  enoof — to  be  coorse  id  did,"  said  the 
tWidow,  taking  the  words  out  of  her  neighbor's  mouth. 


348  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

"Fwhy  wudn't  id  ?  Id  makes  wan  feel  very  bad  indade  to 
be  insoolted  even  by  a  naygur,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  id 
was  intoirely  too  onmintionable  an  my  part,  me  frind,  to  a* 
ye  sooch  a  kustion.  But  Oi  simply  axed  id  because  id 
kem  into  me  moind,  an'  for  no  other  raison,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty;  no  ma'am,  upon  me  wurrud,  for  no  other  airrthly 
raison.  Oi  was  very  hoighly  insooltid  meself,  th'  other  day, 
me  frind,  an'  Oi  know  how  id  feels.  Id  kem  about  in  th' 
quarest  way  in  th'  wurruld,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"Oi  was  lukin'  at  a  pecthur  in  a  windy  av  some  bailey 
gerruls  in  toights  thet  made  thim  luk  as  aff  they  didn't  have 
anythin'  else  on  thim  but  a  bustle,  fwhin  up  shteps  a  f oine 
shtrappin'  buck-ko  av  a  man  an'  axes  me  how  Oi'd  loike  to 
be  a  livin'  pecthur.  'A  livin'  pecthur  av  fwhat?'  sez  Oi. 
'Av  th'  statchis  av  Liberty  and  sooch  ?'  sez  he ;  'an'  av  Vay- 
nus  ?'  sez  he ;  'an'  av  th'  goddiss  Banana  ?'  sez  he.  'An'  how 
do  they  luk  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Out  av  soight,'  sez  he.  'Annythin' 
loike  me  ?'  sez  Oi.  'Oh,  yis,'  sez  he,  'but  they  dhress  deff- 
rintly,'  sez  he.  'That  id  be  aisy  fur  them,  sor,'  sez  Oi,  'but 
Oi  have  betther  clothes  nor  these  meself,'  sez  Oi.  Ow,  wow ! 
but  ye  ought  to  have  hurd  him  laugh,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
'They  don't  wear  no  clothes  at  all,'  sez  he,  be  way  av  ex- 
plainin'  his  good  humor.  'Fwhat's  that  ?'  sez  Oi,  howldin' 
me  breath  an'  nearly  losin'  th'  two  oyes  out  av  me  head  wud 
astonishment.  'They  wears  toights  ?'  sez  he.  'Loike  thim 
bailey  gurruls?'  says  Oi.  'Oh,  not  as  mooch  as  that,'  say 
he,  an'  he  shtill  bushtin'  his  two  soides  wud  laughin'.  Well, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Oi  gev  wan  gud  contimpunious  luk  at 
him,  an'  thin  Oi  hauled  aff  an'  gev  him  as  warm  a  clout  in 
th'  lug  as  man  uver  got  from  woman.  He  shtopt  his  laugh- 
in'  roight  there  an'  Oi  was  goin'  to  give  him  another  clout, 
but  he  turnt  an  his  heel  quick  an'  ron  up  the  shtreet.  Oi 
tuk  howld  av  me  skurts  an'  put  after  him  hollerin  'Mur- 
dher*  an'  'foire'  an'  'stop  theif,'  but  he  dodged  into  a  sal- 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  349 

yoon,  an'  that  was  th'  lasht  Oi  saw  av  th'  dirty  vagabone. 
Oi  spose  he  tuk  me  for  wan  av  thim  wimmin  that's  thrav- 
elin'  'round  an  their  shapes  in  th'  burleskew  comp'nies,  an* 
thought  he'd  have  a  little  shport  wud  me,  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty.  But  Oi  was  too  cute  fur  him,  dye  moind,  an'  he 
knew  id,  fur  he  didn't  laive  th'  grass  grow  andher  his  feet 
fwhin  he  was  gettin'  away. 

"He  had  the  nurve  av  a  Grand  sthreet  barbes,  he  had,  to 
ax  a  daycint  widdy  woman  wud  a  grown  up  daughter  to 
be  afther  doin'  sooch  an  ondaycint  thing  as  takin'  aff  her 
clothes  an'  makin'  a  livin'  pecthur  out  av  herself.  Fwhy, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Oi  saw  thim  Vaynuses  an'  Bananas  me- 
self  in  th'  Killarney  pecthurs  at  a  theayther  uptown,  an* 
divil  as  mooch  clothes  did  they  have  an  as  ye  kud  put  in 
yer  oye,  me  frind.  Th'  oidaya  av  axin'  me  to  be  wan  av 
thim  stark  nakid  statchits !  Did  ye  uver  hear  av  sooch  an 
insoolt  in  all  yer  born  loife.  Besoides,  Oi'm  all  out  av 
shape.  Oi  haven't  worn  me  cossets  fur  a  long  toime,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty." 


SHE  WEIGHS  UP  ACTORS. 

"Wud  ye  marry  an  acthor,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?" 
"No,  mam,  Oi  wud  not,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 
"An'  f why  not,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 
"Because  Oi'm  marrid  alredy,  Mrs.  Magoogin." 
"Oh,  ye're  shmaart,  arn't  ye?     Mebbe  it  id  be  throoer 
for  ye  aff  ye  sed  id  was  because  ye  kudn't,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty."  said  the  Widow,  feeling  a  bit  angered  at  her  neigh 
bor  for  "catching  her  up"  so  quickly.       "Fwhether  ye're 
marrid  or  no,  me  frind,  there's  none  av  thim  wants  ye.     Oi 
simply  axed  ye  th'  kustion,  because  me  daughter  Toozy  read 
to  me  in  th'  paper  that  wan  av  Jay  Goold's  gerruls  was  goin* 


35°  WIDOW  MAGOOGIN. 

to  marry  a  play  acthor  an'  all  the  Goolds  ar5  as  mad  as  a 
wet  hin  and  hot  as  a  red  hot  shtove  about  it. 

"He's  a  purfaick  paich  so  far  as  handsumness  is  con- 
carned,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  th'  gerrul  is  rail  crazy  about 
him,  but  because  he's  a  play  acthor,  th'  other  Goolds  thinks 
he's  no  gud  an'  they're  thryin'  to  freeze  him  out.  Fur 
fwhy,  Oi'd  loike  to  know?  Ain't  play  actin'  as  disrespec- 
tabil  as  any  other  in  th'  cattylogue — an'  don't  they  make 
th'  loads  of  mooney,  me  f rind  ?  An'  ain't  uvrybody  bowin' 
down  an*  worshippin'  thim  as  aff  they  was  kings  an* 
princes  ?  An'  isn't  God  gud  to  thim,  as  he  is  to  th'  Oirish, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty?  To  be  coorse  they  makes  lots  av 
smashes  an'  gets  love  letthers  be  th'  booshel,  wud  locks  av 
hair  in  thim  an'  photyograf ts,  but  so  do  min  in  Wall  sthreet 
an'  min  in  Mulberry  sthreet,  fur  that  matther. 

"Oi  doon't  think  anny  th'  less  av  thim  because  their  teeth 
ar*  fwhoite  an'  purly,  an'  their  oyes  black  as  sloes,  an'  their 
hair  curly,  an'  their  smoiles  sintimintal  an'  insinoowatin'. 
No,  ma'am,  Oi  wudn't  rayfleck  an  their  charracthurs  aff 
they  used  noight  bloomin'  cerooses  an  their  cheeks,  an'  had 
Madame  Roopert  to  paint  noo  complexuns  fur  thim  uv'ry 
day.  Id's  not  their  fault  that  they're  purty,  or  that  th'  fair 
sex  get  gone  an  thim.  No,  th'  poor  divils  war  born  that 
way,  an'  they  can't  help  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Av  coorse 
a  woman  dizn't  want  her  husband  to  be  makin'  smashes 
all  th'  toime  an'  that  may  be  something  af  a  dhrawboick  Oi 
kin  undhersthand,  but  man's  a  hay  male  an'  woman's  a  fay- 
male  an'  as  mi  frind  Ed  Harrigan  sez,  there'll  be  smash- 
in'  an'  slashin'  so  long  as  the  wurruld  goes  round. 

"Th'  acthors  ain't  no  worse  in  this  regard  than  thim  that 
isn't  acthors,  'avourneen.  There's  not  manny  min  an  this 
himmyspere  that  Oi'd  thrust,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  as  far  off 
as  Oi  kud  fling  a  ton  av  coal.  They'll  all  giv  ye  th'  razzle 
f whinuver  they  get  th'  chance,  me  frind.  Acthors  may  be 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  35 1 

fond  av  gettin'  divoorces  an'  av  bushtin'  up  homes,  but 
they're  not  alone  in  that  koind  av  work,  Mrs.  McGlag- 
gerty.  Do  ye  know,  me  frind,  that  Oi'd  jisht  as  soon  have 
me  daughther  Toozy — an'  she's  th'  darlint  av  me  h'art 
an'  th'  apple  av  me  oye,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty — marry  a  play 
acthor  as  annybody  else.  Oi'm  not  thryin'  to  put  meself 
abov'  th'  Goolds,  moind  ye,  an'  Oi  don't  purtind  to  have 
nearly  so  mooch  mooney  as  th'  Goolds  have,  but  Oi  consider 
my  choild  uv'ry  bit  as  gud  as  Jay  Goold's  daughther,  an'  be- 
gorry  Oi'd  not  have  manny  schrooples  agin  her  marryin' 
a  theayther  blokey,  as  my  b'y  Tammy  calls  th'  acthors. 

"Upon  me  sowl,  but  Oi  don't  know  but  fwhat  Oi'd  be 
danged  glad  aff  she  did,  for  Oi'm  toired  supportin'  her 
meseF  an'  Oi'm  beginnin'  to  be  sorry  that  I  uver  got  her 
that  Shecaggy  divorce  fram  Ditch  Hinnery.  She's  bin 
goin'  wid  a  futball  play'r  fram  Yell  College  an'  she  thought 
she  had  her  hooks  an  him  in  purty  gud  shtoyle,  bekase 
he  imagines  she  lives  in  Fift'  avenoo  abow  an'  is  a  milly- 
nairiess,  but  she  wrote  him  lasht  Monday  to  come  down 
fram  Noo  Havin  an'  meet  her  corner  av  th'  Bow'ry  an' 
Delancey  sthreet  on  Winsda'  noight  to  take  her  to  th' 
Horse  Show,  an'  he  wrote  her  baack  to  go  chase  herself. 
Now,  Oi  don't  think  that's  a  very  poloite  way  to  act,  do 
you,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 


SHE  GOES  TO  A  CONCERT. 

"Do  yez  know,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow 
Magoogin  to  her  neighbor,  "do  yez  know  that  there  ain't 
any  av  the  ould  time  songs  to  be  heard  anny  more  ?" 

^Well,  not  manny  o'  them  at  laist,"  said  the  neighbor. 

"No,  not  anny  av  thim,"  the  Widow  insisted.     "F where 


352  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

kin  ye  hear  a  young  man  or  a  young  gerrul,  aither,  that  '11 
be  able  to  sing  ye  the  'Crappie  Lie  Down'  or  'Brinnan 
an  the  Moor/  or  the  'Sailor  Coorted  a  Farmer's  Daughter' 
as  they  ushed  to  sing  thim  to  iz  in  the  good  owld  times 
afore  their  'Peekaboos'  an'  'Cuck-koos'  an'  'Micky  Doodles' 
kern  into  fashion.  Oi  wint  to  a  concert  th'  other  noight 
wid  Arethoosy  an'  her  little  Ditch  beau,  that  makes  be- 
laive  he's  a  musician  bekase  he  kin  shkrape  a  chune  or  two 
an  a  fiddle  an'  plays  the  jewsharp  fur  the  crowd  an  the 
cawrner  belyow.  Mebbe  it  med  a  diffrince,  bekase  it  was 
a  swallytail  an'  dollyket  affair,  fur  the  bongtongs  war 
there  thick  as  a  bowl  av  shtirabout,  wud  hoigh  jood  collars 
an  the  min  an'  low-necked  dhresses  an  the  wimmin  that 
raiched  down  to  their  waishts  almosht. 

<rWell,  upon  my  wurd,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  they  moight  as 
well  be  fwhishtlin'  'Pathriek's  Day'  to  a  moileshtone  as 
singin'  an'  fiddlin'  their  nonsinse  to  me.  Divil  busht  me, 
but  fwhin  the  fat  woman  wud  the  big  showldhers  an'  bare 
nick  began  to  rap  out  a  lot  uv  'oh-hoV  an'  'mio  tomatoes,' 
that  they  sed  war  French  or  Eyetalyun,  an'  kep'  shakin' 
her  v'ice  like  a  dog  shakes  a  rat  or  a  shkeleton  shivers  wud 
a  case  av  chills,  I  thought  uvry  minnit  that  I'd  fall  down 
in  a  shpasm  I  got  that  sick  lishtenin'  to  her.  Did  ye  uver 
hear  wan  av  thim  shteam  piannies  that  they  plays  in  the 
serkus  payrades?  Well,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  the  way  thim 
things  scraiches  was  nawthin'  to  the  goin's  an  av  me  foine 
lady.  Faix  'n  I  was  afeert  that  she'd  shprain  her  nick  wud 
the  twishtin's  she  gev  it,  or  that  she'd  break  aff  her  v'ice 
fwhen  she  thried  to  hollar  too  loud.  An'  fwhat  gud  did 
it  all  do?  There  was  naither  rhoyme  nor  raison  in  her 
singin',  and  I  towld  Arethoosy  an'  Hinnery  so,  too,  though 
they  med  faces  at  me  an'  begged  me  fur  God's  sake  not  to 
say  anythin'  about  the  poor  craythure,  who  I  shuppose  has 
no  other  way  av  airnin'  a  livin'.  Oh,  my,  but  aff  they'd  let 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  353 

me  alone  I'd  a  med  a  holy  show  av  her,  fur  I  sed  I'd  bet 
foive  cents  that  she  kudn't  sing  the  'Wearin'  av  the  Green* 
as  well  as  I  kud  sing  it  meself .  But  they  pulled  howlt  av 
me  shawl  an'  pinched  me  arm  until  it  was  mosht  black  an* 
blue,  so  ye  see  I  hadn't  a  chance  to  say  mooch.  There  was 
a  fiddler  in  it,  too- — a  voyolingster,  Hinnery  sed  he  was — but 
he  was  a  plain  owld  fiddler  an'  nawthin'  else,  an'  dang  my 
buttons  aff  I  uver  herd  such  shkrapin'  an'  see-sawin'  in  all 
the  days  av  me  loife  afore,  an'  I'll  nuver  hear  it  agin  aff  I 
know  meself,  aither.  Hinnery  sed  he  played  a  chophouse 
concert  or  somethin'  av  that  koind,  but  I'd  suner  anny  day 
lishten  to  owld  bloind  Dooley,  that  lived  in  our  place  at 
hnme,  play  'Haste  to  the  Weddin','  or  'The  Kocky  Road  to 
Dublin.' 

"A  fellow  that  thumped  the  pianny  was  the  other  party 
to  the  intertainment,  an'  be  me  sowl,  I  belaive  Pat  Grogin's 
daughter,  that  has  a  forty-dollar  pianny  her  father  gev  her 
fur  a  Chrish'mas  gift  an'  that's  taken  lessuns  only  twicet  or 
three  toimes,  can  bait  the  eyes  out  av  him.  He  tossed  his 
head  an'  threw  his  hands  up  an'  down  an'  shkirmed  an' 
itched  loike  a  dog  that's  aitin'  aloive  wid  flays,  an'  all  there 
was  in  it  was  a  ping-ping  an'  a  toom-toom  all  the  toime, 
only  sometoimes  he  wint  fashter  wid  his  ping-pings  than, 
at  others.  'Fwhat's  he  given  us,  Arethoosy?'  sez  I.  'A 
moonloight  sow-nawto,'  sez  Ditchy.  'Fwhat?'  sez  I  agin. 
'A  moonloight  sow-naw-to/  Ditchy  sez.  'Well,'  sez  I,  'I 
doon't  know  mooch  about  it,  but  aff  he's  givin'  iz  moon 
loight  at  all/  sez  I,  'it's  moonloight  an  a  shovel.'  Then 
uvrybody  all  around  iz  laughed  out,  an'  Arethoosy  got  red 
in  the  face,  an*  Ditchy  sed,  'Let's  go  home/  an'  up  we  all 
bounced  an'  away  we  wint.  They  sed  it  was  the  lasht  con 
cert  they'd  take  me  to,  an'  I  towld  thim  I  was  very  thank 
ful  to  thim,  fur  divil  another  concert  they'd  uver  get  me  to 


354  WIDOW  MAGOOGIN. 

go  to  agin,  anless  the  fiddler  was  an  0  Irish  poiper  an'  the 
singers  'ould  pramise  to  sing  'Nora  Creina'  or  'Tim  Finni- 
gan's  Wake.'" 


THE  BURLESQUE  GIRLS'  LEGS. 

"Well,  well,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow,  talking 
over  the  fence  as  usual,  "Oi  was  at  the  theaytre  lash  noight 
wid  Arethoosy  an'  a  new  beau  that  she  picked  up,  an'  do 
ye  know,  that  aff  Oi  war  to  live  for  foor  hundhert  years  Oi 
don't  shuppose  Oi'd  uver  agin  see  sich  goin's  on  as  Oi  saw 
there." 

"Why,  what  did  ye  see  ?"  the  neighbor  asked. 

"Fwhat  did  Oi  see?  Begorra,  it's  fwhat  didn't  Oi  see, 
Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  that  ye'd  ought  to  be  after  axin'  me," 
Mrs.  Magoogin  responded.  "Oh,  but  it's  the  quare  place 
fur  daycint  payple  to  go,  the  theaytre  is  intoirely,  an'  it's 
th'  quare  inin  an'  wimmin  they  do  be  havin'  makin'  mon 
keys  an'  jurnpin'  jacks  av  thimsel's  on  the  stage.  Sure,  the 
wimmen  don't  saim  to  have  a  bit  av  shame  about  thim  at 
all,  at  all.  They're  siven  times  more  barefaced  than  the 
min,  for  the  min  rowl  somethin'  about  their  waishts  to 
cover  up  their  hips,  an'  though  their  legs  are  as  bare  as  a 
chicken's  bill,  they  don't  make  the  howly  shows  av  thimsel's 
that  the  gerruls  makes,  bad  dang  to  thim.  Well,  to  tell  ye 
throoth,  Mrs  McGlaggerty,  Oi  felt  me  chaiks  burnin'  last 
noight  f whin  the  first  av  thim  Icpt  out  on  the  shtage.  Divil 
a  shtrip  av  a  rag  she  had  on  her  at  all,  but  a  wee  bit  av 
shkye-blue  ribbon  toied  aroun'  her  waisht  an'  a  shkimpy 
little  green  cap  acfost  her  forehead. 

"Oi  was  that  mooch  confushed  an'  ixcoited,  me  frind,  at 
goight  av  her,  an'  sorra  the  wurd  av  lie  Oi'm  tellin'  ye, 


WIDOW    MAGOOGIN.  355 

Either,  that  aff  the  flure  had  open'd  up  an'  shwallyed  me, 
Oi'd  roise  up  me  hands  an'  say,  'Thanks  be  to  the  good 
God  for  puttin'  an  ind  to  me  imbarrassmint,'  thin  an'  there. 
Shure,  an'  me  foine  damsel  Arethoosy  sot  in  her  sait  as 
quoiet  as  a  lamb  wid  a  broken  leg,  an'  divil  the  bloosh  did 
she  bloosh,  but  she  fwhishper'd  somethin'  into  Awgushtus's 
air — Awgushtus  is  the  name  of  the  young  man  that's  masht 
an  her  now,  aff  ye  plaze — an'  the  two  av  them  shkitted  an' 
laughed,  an'  may  the  Lawrd  forgive  her  the  sin,  but  didn't 
she  up  wid  her  oivry  opery  glasses  an'  begin  shpoyin'  at  the 
shameless  crayther,  as  if  she  kudn't  see  enough,  an'  more'n 
enough,  too,  fur  that  matther,  wid  her  naked  eyes.  'Arrah, 
f what  are  ye  doin',  me  daughther  ?'  says  I.  'Lukin'  at  the 
show,'  sez  she.  'Then  it's  ashamed  av  yersel'  ye  ought  to 
be,'  sez  Oi.  'Fwhy,  mother?'  sez  she.  'Becaze,'  sez  Oi, 
that  woman  have  no  clothes  an.'  'Say,  mother,'  sez  the 
little  huzzy,  turnin'  an  me  as  aff  Oi  war  pizen,  'say,  mother/ 
sez  she,  'hould  your  whist,  or  the  guys'll  be  an  to  that  map 
ov  Oireland  moog  av  yers,  an'  they'll  be  shoutin'  out  axiii' 
ye  fwhin  ye  landed.'  'Faix'n,  let  thim,'  sez  Oi,  'an'  I'll  tell 
them,'  sez  Oi,  'that  Oi  landed  long  afore  some  av  thim  had 
pants  an  them ;  an',  see  here,  me  foine  leady,'  sez  Oi,  turn- 
in'  to  herself,  'don't  give  me  anny  av  yer  back  slang,'  sez 
Oi,  'or  Oi'll  be  afther  dhraggin'  ye  acrast  my  knee,'  sez  Oi, 
'shpankin'  the  shpot  ye're  sittin'  an  roight  here  in  the  pres- 
ince  av  the  whole  theaytre,'  sez  Oi.  She  sed  somethin'  to 
Augushtus  an'  he  lukt  at  me  loike  he  wanted  to  dhroive  a 
nail  into  me  nose  wid  his  eye,  but  Oi  give  him  a  luk  back 
that  was  wurth  two  av  his,  so  Oi  did,  an'  that  was  the  lasht 
wurd  Oi  sed  to  aither  av  thim  fwhoile  the  show  lashted. 

"But  the  shtage !  Oh,  my !  the  soights  was  tumble.  Not 
a  ha'p'orth  had  anny  av  the  gerls  an,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty, 
from  their  nicks  down  to  their  vury  toes.  Their  legs  an' 
their  chists  an'  all  there  was  bechuxt  thim,  was  revailed  as 


356  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

plain  as  day,  an'  the  aujience  was  full  av  young  min  that 
ought  to  have  bin  at  home  in  their  beds,  an'  baldheaded 
owld  sinners  that  ought  to  be  at  church  or  in  jail,  and  they 
war  all  shtrainin'  their  eyes  out  av  their  heads  lukin'  at 
the  onblooshin'  daisies  that  shcamper'd  around  the  shtage 
widout  aiven  a  fig  laif  an  fur  the  sake  av  modeshty.  By 
all  that's  shwate  and  howley,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Oi 
wouldn't  pull  off  me  clothes  an'  do  as  thim  gerruls  did, 
though  me  figger  wanst  was  uv'ry  bit  as  foine  as  any  av 
thim,  for  all  the  goold  an  doiminds  that  Vandherbilt — the 
Lord  have  marcy  an  him — left  behoind  him  th'  other  day. 
Musha,  thin,  it's  no  wondher  the  min  an'  b'ys  av  tha 
wurruld  are  bad  an'  wicked  now-a-days  f whin  the  girls  that 
calls  thimsel's  bally  dancers  come  out  an  the  shtage,  wid 
the  gasloights  burnin'  their  broightest,  an'  not  a  shtitch  av 
a  dhress  or  gown  or  petticoat  or  pantylettes  an  thim.  Aff 
that  ain't  timptation  fur  the  min,  thin  Oi  don't  know  f  what 
timptation  is,  an',  be  heavens,  Oi  think  Oi  do.  Arcthoosy 
sez  thim  koind  av  shows — legshows,  she  calls  thim — is  all 
roight,  but  God  give  her  sinse,  or  p'raps  some  day  she'll 
foind  out  that  they're  all  wrang,  fwhin  mebbe  it'll  be  too 
late." 


SHE  WON'T  PLAY  LITTLE  EVA. 

"Well,  upon  me  wurrud,  but  Oi  come  purty  near  to 

bein'  an  acthoress,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 

"Is  id  a  play  acthur  ye  mane,  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 
"Yis,  a  faymale  play  acthur,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 
''Well,  now,  luk  at  that.     An'  how  did  id  happin'  Mrs. 

Magoogin  ?" 

"Fwhishper  an'  Oi'll  tell  ye  all  about  id,  Mrs.  McGlag- 


WIDOW  MAGOOGIN.  357 

gerty,"  said  the  Widow,  resting  her  elbows  on  the  fence 
and  settling  herself  for  a  story.  "Oi  was  sittin'  on  me 
kitchin  shtoop  singin'  to  meself  all  unbeknowin'  that  anny 
won  but  the  Billy  goat  was  widin  sound  av  me  peyatie 
thrap,  fwhin  who  shud  come  up  to  me  wid  a  shmoile  loike 
a  Salvation  Army  gerrul's  bonnet  on  his  mug  but  a  noice 
young  man,  who  axed  me  wud  Oi  sing  id  over  agin,  an* 
he'd  sind  around  th'  corner  fur  a  growler  av  beer.  So  Oi 
up  an'  sings  id  fur  him  agin,  puttin'  trills  an'  frills  an' 
farbelous  an'  id  loike  thim  op'ry  singers  up  town.  This  is 
fwhat  Oi  sang  him,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty : 

"  'Daisy !  daisy ! 

Oi'm  gettin'  toired  av  you; 
Oi'm  too  lazy 

To  wurruk  to  support  iz  two. 
Oi  can't  affoord  to  get  a  divvorce, 
Oi  haven't  a  cint  fram  anny  soorce, 

But  aff  you'll  go  to  wur-r-rk, 

Be  the  beard  av  th'  Tur-r-rk ! 
Oi'll  shtick  to  ye  shticker  than  glue/ 

"'Fwhat  a  lovely,  beyootiful  v'ice!'  sez  th'  young  man, 
fairly  thranspoorted  wud  me  wobblin'.  'Yis,  sor,'  sez  Oi, 
'id  war  a  lovely  v'ice  wanst,  but  Oi  have  a  bad  cowld  now,' 
sez  Oi,  'or  Oi'd  do  mooch  betther  wud  id,'  sez  Oi.  'Sure, 
an'  can't  annybody  see  that?'  sez  he.  Thin  he  towlt  me 
he  owned  tin  theaythers  uptown  an'  wudn't  Oi  loike  to  be 
a  play-acthoriess  an'  go  an  th'  shtage,  sed  he.  He  sed  Oi'd 
make  a  splendid  Little  Eva  in  'Ooncle  Tarn's  Cabin.'  'An' 
who  in  th'  divil's  Little  Eva  ?'  sez  Oi.  'She's  th'  swate  lit 
tle  angel  choild,  sez  he,  'that  doies  an'  goes  to  th'  Noo  Jay- 
roosylam  in  the  play,'  sez  he.  Thin  he  towlt  me  that  all 
Oi'd  have  to  do  on  the  shtage  it  be  to  act  cute  an'  to  talk 


358  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

baby  talk,  an'  the  manager  id  give  me  a  thousand  dollars 
a  week  fur  doin'  id,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi  axed  him  alf 
he  was  dead  sure  Oi  wud  do,  an'  he  crossed  his  h'art  an'  sed 
he  hoped  he  might  swally  his  woindpoipe  aff  he  didn't 
mane  uvry  wurrud  av  id.  So  Oi  gev  him  fifty-noine  cints 
fur  a  doimind  ring  that  me  daughther  Toozy's  wearin'  now 
an'  that  he  had  to  sell  an  account  ov  the  silver  bill  at 
Washin'ton,  an'  he  sed  he'd  be  boick  next  Choosday  to 
dhraw  out  a  conthract  wud  me.  Oh,  but  he  was  a  noice 
young  man,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  Toozy's  jisht  woild  over 
th'  doimind  ring,  though  that  coveytous  Annie  McGown 
sez  id's  only  a  sody  bottle  doimind  an'  id  isn't  worth  foive 
cints.  But  he'll  be  boick,  me  frind,  an'  Oi'll  intherrojooce 
him  to  ye  an'  thin  ye'll  see  fwhat  a  noice  young  man  he 
is.  Purhaps  he'll  sell  ye  a  doimind  ring,  too;  he  had  his 
pockets  full  av  thim,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 

"But  he  needn't  come  boick  about  that  Little  Eva  biznis', 
fur  Oi  wudn't  do  id  fur  a  far-r-m,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi 
wint  to  see  'Ooncle  Tarn's  Cabin'  at  th'  Par-r-rk  Theayther 
abow  an'  there's  nothin'  but  naygurs  an'  proize  fighthers 
in  id  an'  Little  Eva  wid  her  pintin'  always  up  to  Heaven 
an'  furuver  talkin'  av  th'  Noo  Jayroosylam  is  sick'nin'  enoof 
to  give  a  Christmas  three  th'  colly  wobbles,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty.  Th'  oidaya  av  Mrs.  Berdie  Magoogin,  Eshkwoire, 
play  actin'  wud  a  lot  av  injy  rubber  naygurs !  Fwhy  id's 
insinsible  an'  prayposthoreous,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  Oi'll 
till  that  noice  young  man  so  fwhin  Oi  see  him,  me  frind. 
Not  that  Oi  kudn't  play-act  id  well  enoof,  mavoorneen,  but 
id's  too  guddy,  guddy,  too  Docther  Poicrusty  fur  yoors 
throoly.  They'll  have  to  get  some  other  Little  Eva  than 
this  chickin,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  But  fwhat  do  ye  think 
av  me  b'y  Tammy?  Fwhin  Oi  towlt  him  about  id  he  be 
gan  to  make  foon  av  me.  'They're  sthringin'  ye,  mudder/ 
sez  he;  he  always  sez  mudder  to  me.  'An'  fwhat  makes 


WIDOW    MAGOOGIN.  359 

ye  think  so,  Tammy,  agrah?'  sez  Oi.  'Because  ye're  too 
young  to  be  a  Little  Eva,  mudder,'  sez  he.  An'  there's 
more  than  Tammy  that  sez  so,  me  frind.  Fwhat  do  ye 
think  av  that,  now,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty  ?" 


AT  THE  GERMAN  OPERA. 

"Did  you  uver  hear  me  sing  Gurman,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty?" 

"Is  id  you  sing  Gurman,  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 

"Yis,  me." 

"It's  Ditch  ye  mane,  isn't  id,  an'  not  Gurman,  Mrs.  Ma 
googin?" 

"No,  id's  not  Ditch  Oi  mane,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said 
the  Widow.  "Ditch  is  wan  thing  an'  Gurman's  another 
thing,  though  they  both  sounds  aloike  to  payple  who  ar* 
ignorant.  Ditch  is  fwhat  they  talks  in  salyunes  an'  boord- 
in'  houses  an'  Gurman  fhwat  they  sings  in  op'ry,  an'  fhwat 
the  min  that  owns  the  bryeweries  an'  thim  that  lives  an 
Fifth  av'noo  talks,  d'ye  see?  Now,  my  soon-in-law  Hin- 
nery  talks  Ditch,  bekase  he  lurned  id  from  his  owld  fat 
moother  that  keeps  the  gashouse,  as  they  calls  a  boordin' 
house  in  Ditch,  but  Sainyorie  Hair  Wennywish  that  sings 
in  th'  Methrolipin  Op'ry  House  an  Broadway  abow,  he 
shpraiken  sies  Gurman,  an'  be  all  that's  blessed,  Oi  thawt 
he'd  busht  his  throast  shpraiken  siein'  id,  too. 

"Hair  Weenywish — that's  fwhat  my  b'y  Tammy  tould 
me  his  name  was — have  a  v'ice  an  him  that  id  turn  beer 
eour  in  the  kag,  an'  ow-wow  but  mebbe  he  didn't  holler 
fur  th'  polaice  an'  call  th'  other  fellow  names  uv'ry  wanst 
in  a  fwhoile.  He  wasn't  anny  worse,  though,  than  th'  Jim 
McDonough — that's  fwhat  they  calls  the  woman  that 


360  WIDOW   MAGOOGIN. 

comes  out  wid  a  bare  throat  an'  shakes  her  v'ice  in  thim 
thra-la-la-loi-loes,  an'  thin  she  gets  the  bokays  an'  shmoiles 
loike  a  sick  kitten — the  Jim  McDonough  jisht  seraitched 
until  you'd  think  all  the  coppers  in  the  disthrick  id  be  in 
to  see  fwhat  was  the  matter  wud  her;  an'  th'  horns  med  a 
n'ise  an'  the  fiddhlers  played  loike  th'  divil,  an'  there  was 
the  dangdest  hub-bub  ye  uver  hurd  in  all  yer  loife.  There 
was  great  goin's  an  entoirely  an'  ladies  in  grand  dhresses 
an'  f oine  doiminds  all  over  the  house  purtindin'  they  know 
fwhat  id  was  all  about,  Oi  never  let  an  that  Oi  didn't 
andherstan',  but  fwhin  uv'rybody  else  laughed  Oi  laughed, 
too,  an'  fwhin  uv'rybody  clapt,  Oi  clapt. 

"Sorra  the  wurrud  Oi  andhershtud,  though,  from  be- 
ginnin'  to  ind,  though  Hinnery  ped  a  dollar  aich  fur  our 
saits.  Aff  they'd  sed  wie  gehts  ur  zwei  lager  ur  sumthin' 
that  id  give  a  hint  av  fwhat  they  wur  talkin'  about  Oi'd 
not  moind  id  so  much;  but  divil  the  wurrud  Oi  andher 
shtud  at  all,  at  all,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  Oi  wint  home 
feelin'  loike  Oi'd  bin  buncoed.  Oi  shuppose  that  aff  we'd 
ped  foive  dollars  fur  our  saits  loike  the  big  boogs  did,  we'd 
have  andhershtud  thim  better.  It  makes  a  great  deffer- 
enee,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  fwhether  you  hear  Gurman  op'ry 
frum  the  gallery  ur  the  boxes,  d'ye  moind." 


MORE  ABOUT  GRAND  OPERA. 

"Thim  op'ry  singers  give  me  a  pain,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 
"How  is  that,  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 
"They  nuver  lurn  nawthin,  at  all,  at  all." 
"Is  that  so  now,  Mrs.  Magoogin  ?" 
"Yis,  id  is,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,"  said  the  Widow  with  a 
spiteful  sort  of  emphasis  on  the  "yis"  and  the  "is,"    "They 


WIDOW    MAGOOGIN.  361 

comes  over  here  ivry  year,"  she  continued,  "an*  sings  thim 
sangs  an'  rakes  in  our  mooney  an'  divil  shkure  th'  wan 
wurrud  av  our  langewage  they  lurns  to  spake,  Mrs.  Mc- 
Glaggerty.  Wan  kud  ushkuze  thim  fur  not  being  able  to 
shpake  anny  but  Oitalyun  th'  fusht  toime  they  kem  over 
or  th'  suckond,  but  mebbe  but  they've  bin  comin'  year  in 
an'  year  out,  an'  begorry,  they  talks  th'  Dago  yet  an'  won't 
condayscind  to  jabber  anythin'  but  Frinch.  Be  all  that's 
good  and  howly  Oi'll  nuver  go  to  see  thim  agin  until 
they  laives  their  garibaldis  an'  polly-voos  behoind  an} 
comes  down  to  talkin'  rale  sinsible  Noo  Noited  Shtates 
that's  good  enoof  fur  anybody,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi 
wint  to  hear  thim  the  other  noight  wid  me  daughter  Toozy. 
She  hurd  that  her  futball  play'r  was  in  town  takin'  another 
gerrul  to  th'  op'ry,  an'  begorry,  nawthin'  id  do  her  but  she 
mooost  go  an'  make  me  spind  me  foine  foor  dollars  to  take 
her  up  in  th'  balcony  th'  way  she  kud  shtab  his 
ribs,  as  my  b'y  Tammy  sez  fwhin  he  manes  poipin'  a 
body  off — keepin'  an  oye  an  him,  as  id  war,  Mrs.  McGlag 
gerty.  Loike  th'  danged  fool  Oi  was,  Oi  put  an  me  green 
shawl  an'  1813  Impoir  Theayther  bonnit  an'  wint  wud 
her.  There  was  two  opries — 'Plinlimmin  an'  Balky'  an* 
'Cabby  Leary's  Rusty  Annie' — an'  belaive  me  ur  belaive 
me  not,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  Oi  kudn't  undershtand  a 
single  wurrud  in  ayther  wan  uv  thim.  Oi  thought  th' 
Plinlimmin  was  Joe  Immett's  big  Foundnewland  dog  an' 
that  Balky  was  somebody  else's  dog,  but  divil  th'  mut  was 
on  id  at  all,  and  I  was  railly  disappointed. 

"There  was  nawthin'  but  singin'  in  th'  op'ry  an'  Oi'd 
sooner  hear  Katie  O'Donnell  sing  'The  Harrup  uv  Tara* 
ur  Mickey  Dooley  sing  'The  Man  that  Bruk  the  Bank  at 
Monkey  Charleys'  than  all  uv  thim  put  together.  As  for 
Tlusty  Annie,'  she  was  an  owld  shlob  av  a  Dago  that  ought 
to  be  groindin'  th'  organ  or  sellin'  paynuts.  She  made 


362  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

me  saysick,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi  was  very  sarry  though 
fwhin  Oi  saw  th'  beyootiful  assimblage  that  Oi  had  left 
me  doiminds  at  home  on  th'  kitchin  mantelpiece,  because 
there  was  nawthin'  but  doiminds  there.  Yurra  my,  Oi 
thought  they'd  bloind  me  they  shparkled  so.  Id's  a  won- 
dher  they  didn't  set  foire  to  th'  house,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty. 
Toozy  ped  no  attintion  to  thim,  though,  she  was  lukin'  fur 
her  futball  play'r.  An'  id's  a  gud  thing  fur  himself  that 
she  didn't  ketch  him  fur  she  had  blud  in  her  eye,  Mrs. 
McGlaggerty.  She  towlt  me  she  was  goin'  to  throw 
vithreel  an  him,  but  Oi  think  id  was  a  bottle  av  Johnny- 
joomp-opp  cologny  wather  that  she  tuk  along  wud  her. 
Oi'm  glad  though,  fur  his  sake  that  he  wasn't  there.  Oi 
had  no  vithreel,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  but  Oi  hilt  a  shtove- 
led-lifter  in  the  heel  av  me  hand  undher  me  shawl,  an'  God 
help  him  aff  Oi  had  met  him,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty." 


SHE  EIDES  A  GIKAFFE  IN  THE  BARNUM 
PARADE. 

"Did  ye  see  me  lasht  noight,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty?" 
"Did  Oi  see  ye  f where,  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 
"In  the  serkus  payrade,  avourneen.     Oi  was  there/* 
"War  ye  in  a  cage,  Mrs.  Magoogin?" 
"No,  nur  in  a  thrance,  nayther,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty," 
said  the  Widow,  pretending  not  to  be  in  the  least  put  out 
about  the  reference  to  the  cage.     "Oi  was  the  queen  of 
byooty,  d'ye  moind — Claypathrick,  Oi  believe  they  call  her 
— an'  Oi  luked  as  cute  an'  purty  as  wan  av  thim  big 
paintin's  in  Pook.     Oi  wore  a  crown  upon  me  head  an' 
windy  curtins  thraipsin'  down  from  me  showldhers  an* 
goold  an*  shpangles  shoinin'  all  over  me.    But,  oh,  my! 


WIDOW   MAGOOGIN.  363 

Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  Oi'm  ashamed  to  tell  ye  allamosht — 
me  two  arrums  war  as  bare  as  th'  day  Oi  was  borned,  an' 
me  limbs — that's  fwhat  me  daughhter  Toozy  tells  me  Oi 

(musht  call  me  legs,  ashtore,  aff  Oi  uver  uxpect  to  go  into 
sassoiety — me  limbs — ah !  doon't  that  sound  noice,  now  ? — 
me  limbs  was  that  cowld  fram  th'  noight  air  that  Oi 
had  to  shtick  thim  in  th'  shtove  fwhin  Oi  got  home  to 
thaw  thim  out,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty.  Oi  rode  up  abow  an 
th'  top  av  wan  av  thim  long-nickt,  hoomp-backed  things 
they  calls  goiraffies  ur  camels,  an'  ow  wow !  but  mebbe  Oi 
wasn't  say-sick  afore  the  night  was  over.  Thim  goiraflies 
lurches  worse  nor  a  ship — fusht  id's  down  an  wan  soide 
an'  thin  id's  down  an  another  an'  thin  afore  you  know 
fwhere  ye  ar'  th'  b'iler  deck  av  th'  animil  falls  up  agin 
ye  an'  gives  ye  a  shakin'  up  from  wan  ind  to  th'  other, 
that's  not  th'  laisht  bit  noice. 

"Begorry,  aff  id  wuzn't  fur  th'  proide  av  th'  thing  Oi'd 
a  climb  down  that  goiraffie's  nick  an'  walked.  Oi'm  that 
beelious  to-day  afther  me  roide  lasht  noight  that  Oi  kud 
loie  roight  down  an'  doie.  Oi  nuver  felt  worse  not  aiven 
fwhin  Oi  kem  over,  an'  we  wer  thirty-noine  days  an  th' 
say  an'  had  seven  shtorrums  comin'  acrass,  and  the  shmell 
pox  an'  yally  fayver  aboord  all  the  toime.  But  sayin' 
nawthin'  at  all  about  me  limbs  an'  the  quare  shoot  av 
clothes  Oi  had  upan  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  an'  the  waik- 
niss  av  shtummick  brung  an  be  the  hay-fut  shtraw-fut  way 
the  goiraffie  walked,  Oi  got  along  very  well  antil  we  shtruck 
the  Bow'ry,  fwhen  that  bla-guard  av  a  gossoon  av  moine, 
shtanding  down  in  th'  crowd,  p'inted  up  at  me  an'  shouted, 
'Get  on  to  her  jags !  She  has  a  face  an  her  loike  a  bushted 
cranberry  poie !'  Oi  purtindid  not  to  see  him  ur  to  hear 
him,  but  he  followed  me  a  block  savin':  'Get  an  to  her 
Turkies  fram  Churry  Hill !'  'Musha,  bad  luk  to  yer  tongue/ 
sez  Oi  to  him,  quoiet  an'  aisy  loike,  'but  aff  Oi  had 


364  WIDOW    MAGOOGIN. 

ye  up  here  Oi'd  make  a  turkey  av  ye,'  sez  Oi.  An'  fwhin  Oi 
got  him  home,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty,  maybe  Oi  didn't  box  his 
airs  fur  him,  though  the  little  villyun  sed  he  nuver  knowed 
me. 

"An'  fwhy  did  Oi  go  in  the  parade  ?  ye  aask.  Jisht  fur 
foon.  Barnum  wanst  axed  me  to  go  wud  his  serkus  an' 
Oi  thawt  that  Oi'd  loike  to  know  how  id  feeled  to  be  a 
serkus  acthor,  that's  all.  Now  Oi  know,  an'  may  the  divil 
pull  a  leg  aff  av  that  goiraffie,  but  me  poor  head's  bin 
bushtin'  all  the  day  fram  the  jowltin'  Oi  got.  No  more 
serkus  actin'  fur  me,  Mrs.  McGlaggerty !" 


THE   END. 


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